Union State of Russia and Belarus
by LizCrazy
Summary: When Russia and Belarus finally do marry, is it happily ever after for Belarus and her family? Or is she disappointed by her dream come true? Warnings: Incest, Rusbel Marriage and kid OCs, Strong languages, Sexual content. Rated M for those reasons. Heavily revised (See Author's Note)
1. The Children Of The Rus (Prologue 1)

**Author Note:**

 **Apologies for the long Author's note! The first chapter is below, but I want to say a few things first:**

 **About revisions: This _used_ to be multiple different stories. I also edited bits that were _too_ mature. Which brings me to point two:**

 **WARNING: The following text has VERY strong sexual themes, and Incest. I have appropriately rated it, you read at your own risk, so please do NOT report! Some** **chapters are not so Mature, but it is rated M because some will be sexually themed and contain Incest.**

 **It also contains NOT HISTORICALLY ACCURRATE FACTS, Headcanons, Potential OOC-Ness and OCs. If you are not okay with any of that, now is a good time to leave.**

 **Also, if you spot any grammatical and/or spelling (disregarding the factor I do NOT** **use American grammar and spelling) please point them out. The same applies to translation errors as I only have the unreliable Google translate.**

 **So far the translations used are (I think I have them all, if not, feel free to ask)**

 **Siastra = Belarusian for Sister**

 **Sestra = Russian for Sister**

 **Da = Russian for yes**

 **Nyet = Russian for no**

 **Dy = Belarusian for yes**

 **Brat = Russian/Belarusian for Brother**

 **Solnishko = Russian for Sunshine**

 **Moya/Moy = Russian for my**

 **Spasiba = Russian for Thanks/Thank you**

 **Mama = Russian for Mum**

 **Papa = Russian for Dad**

 **Oui = French for yes**

 **Non = French for no**

 **Merci = French for Thanks/Thank you**

 **Mademoiselle = French for Miss**

 **I do not (As you probably know) own Hetalia, Belarus, Ukraine, Russia, France, America, Canada, England or China. I do own Moscow and have permission to use Minsk,** **St. Petersburg, Kieven Rus' and Eastern Slav.**

 **Other than that, please enjoy, and feel free to leave a (politely worded) review!**

 **~Liz**

* * *

When did everything _really_ begin for them?

* * *

 _It was after Pangaea had broken apart. Not so long after, though, that a whole mess of Empires, Tribes, Ethnic groups, Continents, even language groups, and, well, any peoples with connections, began to form together, evolve, develop political, legal and social systems._

 _Eventually, these gained their own personifications. The first generation of modern-day 'Nations', they would later become known as the 'ancients'. But nothing has always been ancient, not even the Earth._

 _East Slav had lost contact with her siblings and their children. She was all but alone with her still somewhat un-unified Tribes, and she was struggling against the other main dominance in her area of Europe, Scandinavia. She knew it was possible for her to win! The problem?_

 _First, she needed to get the Kings, Princes and other Tribal leaders to all agree. And that wasn't easy..._

 _Luckily, she had 'inside' help, the Slavic woman smugly mentally noted, as she thought of the man she'd recently met._

 _A new, young personification, technically Scandinavia's little brother, but adopted by one of the kings. He didn't, presently, have a 'Nation' name. In an odd reversal of norms, as most Representatives never bothered with Human names, well apart from that ponce Rome, he went by his adopted name. Izyaslav Ruerikivichi._

 _It helped that she and her latest advisor got on swimmingly. East Slav was a warm-hearted, sweet woman, despite her sometimes scarily strong will and determination. Izyaslav was a basically a big child, soft and fun, but equally fierce about things he claimed as 'his'. It seemed he somewhat considered her to be 'his'._

 _That was...bothersome, since she was fighting off his brother for that reason, and was assertively independent. And yet...His wide violet eyes melted her steely expression reserved for dealing with foreign relations, replacing it with her tender, motherly half smile. Something about a large, fully grown man with delicate cherubic features made her blush gentle pink._

 _And slowly...she began to fall in love. The two spent months trying to figure out how to negotiate a unification they called 'Kievan Rus'', a name of Izyaslav's invention._

 _Every day they were together, she wanted him to take a more and more active part in it. At long last, her mind derived the perfect solution._

 _She was adopted into the main Tribe opposing his, ready to set up a potential alliance. This was when she began following what had become the increasingly popular personification_ _trend_ _of taking a 'Human' name and became Nala Yaroslavna._

 _The next step was to marry him._

 _It wasn't hard to achieve. He had fallen in love with her ashen blonde locks, teal eyes and high cheekbones from day one. Her sweet, yet determined personality had quickly become endearing to him, too._

 _In 882, the unification of the East Slav Tribes under Kievan Rus', later a name Izyaslav took for the lands he represented, became one of the earliest Christian weddings in Eastern Europe._

 _Together, they were a formidable, almost unstoppable couple._

 _Secure in their positions, they did something few 'Nations' had been willing to try, unsure of the risks._

 _The couple tried to have a baby. To tell the truth, they weren't even sure if it was possible, but, carried forward by their success, they didn't really care anymore._

 _However, if they had been worried, it would have been unjustified. East Slav soon discovered she was pregnant, and before they knew it, they were proud parents. Iryna Rusivna Rurikovna was born on 24 August. She was named after Irina, a Princess of parts of the Kievan Rus', with a Patronymic middle name, and an adapted, feminine form of her father's surname._

 _Her pale skin and her small amount of wavy ashen her, together with her teal eyes, were just like her mother's, but her cherubic features were just like her father's. And her representative name, in her early years, was 'Little Rus'' as she represented land in her father's area, occupied mainly by one of her mother's Tribes._

 _As Iryna grew, she developed a personality much like her mother's, too, and even changed her 'Nation' name to eventually become the Republic of Ukraine, a young girl of about ten, physically speaking, with long hair, tied back in a braid, and often found trailing her father when he spoke with his Tribe's leaders._

 _It was about this time that her mother had two more children, in fairly quick succession._

 _First, Ukraine's little brother, Ivan Rusovich Ruerikivichi, known throughout his younger years as 'Great Rus''. He was a small child, much like his father, cherub-faced, with wide violet eyes and big boned, while his ashen blond hair, shorter than both parents, was reminiscent of his mother's. He grew up to be known as Russia._

 _Just a year later, one day after Ukraine's birthday, followed Belarus, or 'White Rus'' as she was called throughout her childhood. Named Natalya Rusovna Rurikovna, she took after Kievan Rus', with her platinum hair, but it was as straight as her mother's. Her eyes, while holding the blue tone from Nala's teal eyes, were a darker, indigo shade._

 _The three children were a joy to their parents for four years. But the family had become complacent. They had forgotten that the World was full of aggressors ready to strike._

 _Mongolia attacked in 1240. Kievan Rus' went to defend his family and never came home. East Slav was second to fall._

 _After that, the children were split._

 _The motherly Ukraine took over, running with her siblings. But one day, Russia, just like his father, wanted to defend his sisters. Tired of hiding, he went to face Mongolia. He, too, never came home. Yet...Iryna knew her brother was still alive._

 _But she knew she could do nothing but guard Belarus. So, she staid by her Little Sister and tried to raise her as well as she could._

 _The youngster developed an icy, harsh attitude against her sister, following what she saw as everyone else's abandonment and a feeling that Iryna would follow._

 _Then...Ivan came home. That changed everything._

 _He was still much like her father, as always, Ukraine noted. But she sensed her brother was broken. He wouldn't talk of Mongolia at all. Not how he escaped, defeated him, nothing._

 _That man had hurt him, and inside Ukraine wished she could have been the one to kill the Mongol, just to get revenge for her parents and her baby brother,_

 _Natalya changed when Ivan came home too. She began to obsess over him. Before, she claimed to remember no 'Brother'. Now, she adored him. Following him, hugging him, kissing him, even saying she'd marry him. To the point that Iryna worried, and Ivan grew scared. She definitely had their mother's strong will._

 _But more than that, as they grew into their own Nations, especially in the following years when Russia became independent and Belarus went away with 'friends' in Europe, the three of them developed their own, albeit similar cultures. To reflect this, they jumped with a new common craze among young Nations and changed their surnames, establishing their independence from the old era and the promise of something new._

* * *

Iryna Rusivna Chernenka. Ivan Rusovich Braginsky. Natalya Rusovna Arlovskaya. The children of the Rus'.

That was where, when, and how they began in this World.


	2. Somehow, Someday (Prologue 2)

It was amazing, Iryna Rusivna Chernenka reflected, how much could change in a few years, only to become set and never change again, over centuries. She was...old now. Physically 30, but among the older Nations, as physical ageing in personifications was slowed, and after a point ceased.

She was now about 1500 years old, and her siblings had gone away. Her friend-making elsewhere went badly.

Yet, she was the only sibling who had changed. She had matured, calmed. Being and acting as their mother figure for so many years had made her listen more, and fight less.

And now? With no one but herself to care for and a pile of debts from trying to do that, she had to work, mostly on her farm. She'd cut the trademark plaited bun she'd inherited from her mother to around her rounded, childlike chin, and had to wear work clothes so that the only thing that got in her way was the tall, curvy figure also inherited from her mother and representative of her 'Tracts of land'.

So physically and in attitude, Ukraine had changed.

Russia, meanwhile, had not. He was, Iryna sighed, still a cracked-minded, over-sized child. An adorable one who still looked like he had when he was three, apart from being tall and big-boned, but an over-sized child still.

And Belarus?

Belarus still had her long, platinum blonde hair that only seemed to get longer, indigo eyes and fierce expression. She still dressed in the old-fashioned yet girly clothes that her mother and older sister had dressed her in, and they still suited her. But there was one thing Ukraine actually wished would change, but that never did.

Her obsessive 'love' for her older brother.

She wanted to marry him. And Belarus did not take 'no' for an answer.

Where and when had this started? When and _how_ would it end? Iryna supposed the beginning was when their happy family life had abruptly ended with the death of their parents.

While she was the only one who really remembered the Old East Slavic times and the days of the Kievan Rus', her siblings recalled the hardship that had come afterwards. And Natalya, for a while during her childhood, didn't see or remember her brother because of it.

When he came home, he was a new concept to her, and as the person who defeated Mongolia, the man she had only heard of as the killer of her parents, he was a hero to her, and she had worshipped him. After all, he was the only person, of all those who had left her, to keep his promise to return to her.

Then, during her struggle to establish independence, she had been tossed from Empire to Empire in early Europe. Yet she'd kept her revered but once again lost Brother in her mind's eye, and his dashing smile, as she remembered it, had led to a physical attraction forming too.

And perhaps now, after reuniting during the Russian Empire and the Soviet Union, and realising they had a number of shared cultural, social, religious and political views, she really did love him. Or believed she did. After all, for the incredibly superstitious Belarus, finding someone on the same strange wavelength as she was, for similar reasoning, would be like finding her soul mate.

Maybe, the Ukrainian mused, she was right. God only knew. Either way, she was crazy about Ivan, who found it quite intimidating, since Natalya struggled to come across as the loving person that she actually was.

Iryna gave a small sigh as she snapped out of her thoughts and looked out of the window, at her fields of Sunflowers, dancing in the wind. Ivan, or Vanya, as she affectionately referred to her Little Brother, loved them, but she couldn't take him any.

The family was, once again, divided. When young, it was a purely physical divide, with their thoughts still of each other, but now...She and Vanya's bosses fell out and kept them apart, over gas and debt, mostly. Natalya seemed to shut away almost everything but her desire for her Brother.

Well, _almost_...sometimes, she would visit, and help the Ukrainian out with the pains her figure gave her, while they had a friendly chat. It was the closest to happy, fun family life they got these days.

But not today. The path through the fields to Ukraine's door was only occupied by fallen leaves, and her phone, which Ivan sometimes used when he thought her boss wasn't around or if Natalya got overzealous in her attempts to marry him, was silent.

In her quiet house, all alone, Ukraine prayed to anyone or anything that may be listening that soon, this weird, battle-less conflict within their family would soon be over.

She didn't really care what ended it, how it ended. Just so long as she and her siblings could all be happy together again. Somehow, someday.

That was all she _really_ wanted. To see Natalya and Ivan happy before she, like their parents had at a similar age, faded away.

Looking out at the swaying flowers, defying Winter's attempted grip to still seem cheerful, but strong, Iryna smiled. There was still hope, warming her heart.

It wasn't a question of _if,_ she knew. It would just be _when._

Sooner, or later.

Perhaps later would be better. It would give them time to solve their own problems, internal and external, before coming together again.

Still, she had a deep, secret hope that no matter what troubles that may present, it would be sooner.

Because for all her attempts to remain reminiscent of the strong Nation she had first been known as she missed them more than anything.

They were so close in a physical sense, yet so far in a spiritual and mental sense that it hurt.

Ukraine didn't want to lose her sovereignty, nor did she want her siblings to lose any piece of their identity, but some kind of Union that could bring them back together, something similar to the old days, when they could all see each other easily, would be wonderful.

It would make their separations and problems better, she thought, almost believing her own idealism.

But it wasn't herself she would have had to convince if she had had the power and ability to do that kind of thing these days...

 _If only they knew...If only they would co-operate, just for her sake..._

 _They could be happy. They would be happy. Somehow, someday._

* * *

Perhaps, whoever or whatever Ukraine had been praying to had been listening, and decided to grant her wishes. Or maybe it was just a stroke of luck in her favour, she thought curiously as she hung up the phone.

Her delighted Little Sister had obviously been doing a _lot_ of talking with her Brother since the three siblings were last together because from what Iryna got coax out of the hyperactively ranting Natalya, she had just been invited to the wedding of her younger siblings...

Still, however unusual her siblings were, for whatever reasons, she loved them. So she would go. She would support whatever they wanted to achieve with this...Union, of some kind.

It wasn't quite what she hoped for, but if it was going to eliminate the friction between her younger siblings, and help to bring their family closer together, it would definitely do.

Why they had decided to marry, what they wanted from a Union, and how long this sort of truce would last, only time would tell.

To Ukraine, that didn't matter anymore.

They were happy. Why? For how long?

Who really cared?

 _They were finally happy._


	3. Come What May (Prologue 3)

When she discovered that her siblings decided, after some strange turn of events, that they would get married, Iryna Rusivna Chernenka maintained that so long as it made them happy, she didn't mind.

She even helped them, playing the dutiful sister and maid of honour, and going to the Belarusian's side early on the morning of their wedding to prepare for the wedding with her.

She listened patiently to her sister's unusually hyperactive and cheery chatter, most of it about Ivan, helped Belarus pull her wedding dress and its accessories on, and even managed not to curse as she struggled to get Natalya's long, yet somewhat stubborn, hair into place in its bun.

The Ukrainian truly didn't seem to mind, much to the shock of Russia, who had been quite nervous about the idea of telling their elder sibling.

She just wanted what she had always wanted. For them to be happy. It was a simple wish, but so far in their lives, it had seemed unobtainable. Iryna was really, _really_ hoping this time would be different.

When the two women actually arrived at the Cathedral where the wedding was being held, it seemed that possibly, just possibly, it would. Everything inside, Ukraine noted as she peered around the doorway, seemed to be going smoothly. Well, apart from the fact that Ivan's facial expression was a deranged-looking mix of a worried grimace and a joyful grin, which seemed to be frightening some of the guests.

Nerves, Iryna concluded. A perfectly natural reaction to marrying Natalya, she added to herself as her sister finally wrestled her long, flowing black wedding dress out of the car in one piece, slamming the door behind her and striding over.

She didn't even look a tiny bit hesitant or nervous. She was entirely confident. Well, the Ukrainian shrugged, she _has_ been planning this for a long time. A _very_ long time.

So, Iryna gathered Natalya's train, made sure she wasn't stepping on the silken sky-coloured skirts of her own gown and followed quietly as her younger sister continued to stride on past, and headed purposefully down the aisle. She tried, albeit silently and from a distance, to calm her brother down with a smile, but he didn't seem to notice as he stared at his approaching bride.

It was as simple as that. She just followed her sister up to the altar, then stood back and watched them get married. She had expected to feel something, whether good or bad. She had thought maybe she would cry. Lots of people cried at weddings, and she had been told she cried a lot, but it just...happened. Though not without some musing inside her head, addressed to God only knew who...

* * *

 _Natalya and Ivan. Ivan and Natalya. Where do I start? Where and when did all this start?_

 _I just don't know anymore. It feels like it's always been this way. I've always watched Natalya chasing Vanya around, for as long as I can remember, with Natalya trying to grab him, so she can hold him, and Ivan crying, yelling pleadingly at her to stop._

 _It used to be quite cute when they were young because I thought it was a game or a phase of some sort. It's hard to believe a four-year-old is serious when proposing to their older brother or dressing up as a bride in white tablecloths and bed sheets then trying to convince their aforementioned brother get married. Sometimes he'd even play along with her 'games'._

 _That soon stopped as they grew up. When they reached their early teens. I started to get concerned about Natalya and her mental health. I knew what she doing wasn't normal, and it just starting to get less 'cute'. By this point it was obvious it wasn't a phase, and it was becoming worse, increasingly regular and more insistent._

 _She needed some kind of help. I needed help to stop this. Poor, frightened Little Vanya needed help._

 _But what could I do? Who could I speak to? Where was I supposed to find help for this kind of problem?_

 _I did try talking to China since he was used to looking after his young family, and he was Ivan's friend...sort of. But he didn't seem to understand, just pointing out that my family is crazy. Like I needed telling. It was obvious._

 _Then Ivan fixed my problem for me. He went away, off to be independent._

 _But I wasn't glad, I missed my baby brother, and it broke Natalya's heart. She said that obviously he didn't love her, and she wasn't clearly good enough because that he'd abandoned her. All these horrible ideas I couldn't talk her out of, no matter how many times I told her that none of it was true._

 _The more time passed, the more resentful, bitter and lonely my sister became. She just isolated herself away, waiting for her 'Precious Brother' to 'Come home and love her again'._

 _Then she left me too and went off to be an independent Nation named Belarus._

 _Both of my little siblings got on with their lives, growing up, having their own complicated, and quite unstable in places, politics, and history. But Natalya still chased after Ivan as soon as she saw him again. Well, occasionally they'd have an actual conversation like sane, rational, normal people. But that was all too rare._

 _He ran off, almost every time. Sometimes he'd come back to me and ask, 'Why on Earth is she still like this?'. He'd believed it just be a childhood thing too, thinking that Natalya never really meant it. No such luck, Vanya._

 _The more he refused her, the more desperate she'd become. It started off as a child's babbling proposal, all cute and seemingly innocent, and ended up as a woman scraping at doors, breaking said doors open and entering his house, throwing knives around and demanding marriage._

 _I always felt sorry for Ivan when she'd do that, as it obviously intimidated him, understandably. But I tried to stay out of their arguments for my own good, and for theirs. I didn't want to take sides and hurt someone's feelings._

 _They were both such strange children. They're still strange. I just don't know what will become of them. But I love them, unconditionally, so I'll try and support them, whatever it is._

 _Even this. This...unexpected...Union of theirs._

 _Yes, April 2, 1996, and here I am watching my little brother and sister getting married._

 _That's a strange feeling..._

 _Well, I suppose that 'The Union State Of Russia And Belarus' is what Natalya has always wanted. She's been hoping for this for years. Maybe it will finally calm her down, stop her from chasing after Ivan, and make her a little happier. I certainly hope so._

 _Ivan, however...I don't know anymore. I guess they've talked it through since he seems okay with the idea now. I even saw them kissing earlier, and he was smiling about it afterwards, so I guess I shall just have to assume it makes them both happy, and if does, well...So long as my siblings are happy._

 _I just hope they don't decide to have children because those little ones would be really, really crazy. Not to mention potentially dangerous and possibly unstable little Nations, Micronations, Cities or whatever happens what a Nation has children running around would cause endless, international havoc._

 _They would probably very cute, though. Cute but deadly. A little bit like Ivan and Natalya. Actually, quite a lot like them. And much as I love my dear Little siblings, no one in the World wants to see some kind of re-make of Ivan and Natalya._

 _Other than that...lovely little thought, I wish them a very happy marriage, it that's what they want._ _So, with that, I had to shrug those aforementioned charming thoughts off, after all, people get married every day. Mind you, Nations don't._

 _But I quietly deemed it was best not to dwell on that particular train of thought, and continued on with the proceedings, following my seemingly jubilant siblings back out of the Church for the photos._

 _Then there was the reception...That seemed to take a long time. Natalya and Ivan aren't often known for their happiness or for their dancing...'Skills', but when they are overjoyed and able to get some Vodka, they definitely know how to party. A lot._

* * *

The morning after the wedding party had finally dispersed, the Ukrainian woke up with a hangover and a Vodka-stained Bridesmaid dress, in the guestroom of her brother's home, and for some reason, found herself laying the bed, looking up at the ceiling, still in a rather reflective mood.

Her strange but dear to her Little Brother, and her even stranger, but quite lovely Little Sister, had entered (voluntarily and happily, if appearances were anything to go by) into a Union State, which was apparently politically 'Official' now.

They, whether just together or among many others and for various different reasons, had had numerous unions of varying degrees of happiness, all of which had failed sooner or later.

Would this one be different? How long would it last?

Days, weeks, months...Maybe even years?

Ukraine could only hope that either it would never end, or that she would not live to see the day something forced her siblings apart once again because she _so_ wanted to see them happy at last.

That, and she knew that now Natalya had _finally_ got what she had wanted since their early childhood, she would never, _ever_ want to let it go. No matter what.

And if something or someone tried to force her to give her newfound 'wedded bliss' up?

There would be Hell to pay. Neither she nor Ivan, providing they _were_ both as happy as they seemed now, would back down without a _serious_ fight. And she had _seen,_ and indeed been dragged _into,_ many of their battles and wars before, because of her love for them and also because of their insistent attitudes concerning getting what they wanted.

The Ukrainian woman shuddered slightly. No, it was definitely best for all those concerned (And when it came to Natalya and Ivan, many, _many_ people and Nations who were _deeply_ concerned) that that never happened again, and that her siblings stayed peacefully and happily together.

That was the most important thing to her right now, that they were both happy, and at peace with the World around them.

Not only because she loved them, but because it would allow her to concentrate on her own affairs, on her politics and her people, and maybe even her farm, with less chance of being dragged into some mess by her siblings.

Maybe, just maybe, for once her family would be responsible for making the future brighter, rather than causing the World more troubles, Iryna rather idealistically mused to herself.

So, whatever her feelings would ordinarily be on the subject...Ukraine decided to keep out of it and privately pray that it kept her siblings stable, safe and cheerful. And if it did, then she resolved to accept it and its outcomes, in spite of not knowing what they may be.

 _Come what may...Whatever changes it may or not bring...However long it might last for..._

 _Only time would tell, after all..._


	4. Anniversary Surprise

Seventeen years, precisely. It was really seventeen whole years today, Natalya Rusovna Braginskaya, Republic of Belarus, thought in stunned silence as she stared at the calendar on her kitchen wall, since her Beloved Big Brother, Ivan Rusovich Braginsky, better known as Russia, a little while after he had _finally_ agreed to marry her, had made good that promise.

The smell of her breakfast getting hotter than toast was meant to be alerted her to the fact that, while her marriage with her precious Ivan was important, not burning the house they shared down while he was out working was considerably more so.

And, so that day, the blonde haired Belarusian lady tried to go about her usual household chores and National duties without dwelling too much on her and Russia's wedding anniversary.

It wasn't easy. For one thing, whenever she saw either of the couple's two children, her brain ran off again, into thoughts of her much-loved family.

The pictures scattered around the house were just as bad. Photos of them together. Wedding pictures. Images of the children, or their elder sister, Ukraine. Even the proposed flag of their Union State, could and did spark thoughts of him.

Natalya had never been able to control herself in any way concerning Ivan, right from being very young, he had easily driven the fairly reserved, if a little icy, Belarusian to violent outbursts, obsession, and much, much worse.

In the end, she gave up trying and retired upstairs to make anniversary plans.

Her mind searched for something to do for her Darling Brother when he came home. Dinner, chocolates, flowers...But nothing struck Belarus as special enough for her and her Beloved husband's seventeenth anniversary.

Perhaps she should buy something interesting for him. After all, Ivan wouldn't be home until late, and her eldest daughter, Moscow, was old enough to take care of her sibling in peace.

So, Natalya grabbed her bag and headed out to find something perfect. Ideally, something to please them both...possibly, then, something sexy would be best...

That was what led the young Eastern Nation into a lingerie shop. She seemed quite embarrassed by it, ducking into a dimly lit corner to browse privately, and turning away any offers of assistance from staff.

But when she found something that she thought was... _suitable_ for 'seducing' her Dearest Big Brother that night, her almond-shaped blue eyes glinted with an oft dangerous excitement in the darkened corner, and she signalled the assistant over.

Price, the Belarusian Female boasted, was no object, though that wasn't entirely true, considering that her economy was no powerhouse. Fortunately, her anniversary date plans didn't break the bank.

With an idea in her mind's eye about how it should go, and most importantly, a mental image of the Russian man's reaction to her little... _Surprise,_ she hurried on home, and, almost as she soon as she had checked up on her children, dashed off up to the room the couple shared, once again.

Now...Her preparations. Folding up her clothes and changing into her new, more...exciting, she hoped, 'outfit', the Belarusian turned and looked at the bed. Every detail was important, where and how should she rest for her Brother's surprise gift...

Right now, however, Ivan Rusovich Braginsky didn't care. About _anything_. Imagine knowing you had a gorgeous and devoted wife, with two adorable children, waiting at home, but were forced to sit through a tedious meeting first?

It filled him was apathy. He didn't care about the work. He didn't care about his Nation and his people right now. He didn't even care about going home since they had no plans and he'd only be late anyway. Natalya was probably ready to _kill_ his boss. All that? It made him just want to shut off and close the World out.

But finally, he made it through the tedious meeting and pushed out into the cold, crisp Moscow air, in the late evening. He hurried to his car, keen to get out of here at long last.

And meanwhile...Natalya still lay in wait for him on her and her husband's shared bed, kicking her legs impatiently, her high heels clacking against the mahogany headboard, as she waited for Ivan to return from his bosses meeting.

The Belarusian Republic was keen to show her husband her new lingerie set, which, besides a tantalising half smile, was all she currently wore over her pale curvaceous form. The panties and bra were her usual style, dark purple, making her pale Slavic skin tone stand out, edged with black lace that just covered the golden clips of her pantyhose. The corset that held them together, and the ribbons that decorated it, was as red as her sheeny, shiny, promisingly luscious lips.

She'd also thought up some fun sadistic play for her and her Beloved Brother tonight, for resting on her cheek was one of her precious knives that she held, toying with its ebony handle.

Ivan, her brother and husband, returned home, fed up from the long and tedious meeting and headed inside to see his wife. She could almost always bring a more genuine than usual smile on his face and improve his mood.

His heart sunk when he couldn't find her, though fortunately not literally for once. He searched downstairs but only found Minsk, their youngest daughter, playing in the laundry basket. The young girl scowled when she saw her father. Russia sighed, this day only seemed to get worse by the second. _Some anniversary_. "Ah, Little Minsk, Darling," He began tentatively. "Where is your Mama? You know, da?"

Minsk shrugged. "She went to the bedroom she shares with my stupid Papa a while ago." She rudely remarked before hiding beneath one of Moscow's discarded outfits from the previous week.

The Russian man sighed deeply once again and headed upstairs. At least Little Sestra will be pleased to see me, he thought sullenly. He gently pushed open the bedroom door.

"Natasha, Solnishko, I need...Oh..." Ivan's voice trailed off as he looked over at their bed and saw her resting there. She looked even more ravishing than usual. His bad mood vanished, to be replaced by a feeling of arousal as he inspected her...outfit.

As she heard her beloved Big Brother approach and enter, Natalya's smirk grew. "What do you need, Brother darling?" She asked, her voice low but saccharine sweet, dripping with syrup.

With that, the Belarusian woman lifted her hand that held nothing, the left one, and beckoned her love closer with one long, slim, pale finger, tipped with blood red nail varnish.

Her 24-carat gold wedding ring glinted with her movement, symbolising their dedicated, committed, adoration-filled relationship.

"Whatever it is, you can come and get it, right here, with me, tonight. You know I'll give you anything. Do anything. Kill anyone. For you." She continued, beckoning him with eyes as well as hand now as she grew more aroused by his very presence.

She was glad she'd done this and was elaborating because not only did she want him badly, but she also knew him well, and she could see that he'd had a rough day. It pleased her to know she'd done something nice for him.

"All I want in return is you." The female nation added, her smirk spreading.

Ivan blushed light pink at his dear wife's words. "Ah, that's lovely, Sunflower." He slowly advanced towards the beckoning Belarusian, curious about what she had planned for tonight.

Her shimmering ring pleased him, as it reminded him of their union, keeping them together, always. He smiled again at last as he reached her.

Starting to get hot under the collar at her sexy tone, he began to undress, throwing off his coat and unclipping his belt, pulling off his trousers. His tank top followed, and then even his beloved scarf.

He looked down, blushing darker, his cheeks flushing to red at the sight of his erection.

Hesitant to discover what his alluring but fearsome wife had in store for him, the Russian seated himself carefully on the very edge of their bed, upon the silken blanket emblazoned with his flag, beside her.

As soon as her precious Ivan came over to join her, Natalya reached out and gripped his arm, pulling him down onto his back, closer to her side.

Then she swung herself down from the elevated position against the headboard and rolled onto her Brother's chest, kissing his neck. The somewhat sadistic Belarusian hovered her knife inches from his right cheek, her smirk flickered to a frightening grin and the familiar dark aura that ran in their family surrounded her.

"I love you, I love you, I love you..." She hissed, her breath hot and her tone low. "Did you miss me, my dear? Don't worry. I'll never leave your side again. No more bad days. I'm here." His sister's yandere side was showing again, it seemed.

But Belarus had noticed something else now, and the Female Republic's left hand had slipped down between them, into his briefs, rubbing him softly.

Ivan gasped, startled, as his Sestra pulled him back, catching him by surprise the first time.

However, he anticipated her next move and caught her easily around the waist as she dropped lightly onto his muscular chest, one large arm wrapping neatly around her, encompassing Natalya's entire slender middle.

He smiled softly, holding her close against him, though trying not to press his hard manhood too close to her. "Da, I missed you, dear. So much. The surprise tonight certainly helped, though" He added, grinning playfully and toying with a long blonde strand of her hair with his free hand, moaning softly as she touched him gently yet erotically. "I love you."

Hearing that the love of her life had missed her, hearing Ivan reassure her that he loved her too and listening to him moan, Natalya smiled and turned the knife to its blunt edge, not wanting to hurt her 'Darling', before running it across his cheekbone, tickling his face softly.

Then the Belarusian tugged at his briefs in a frustrated manner. "These stand in our way, Brother. They are stopping us becoming one again." She hissed. "Unacceptable!" With that snarl, she yanked the thin fabric away from between them.

Ivan's violet eyes widened as he felt his beloved running her weapon softly over his face. Reaching his free hand from her hair to the knife quickly, he snatched it from her pale fingers. "Then this is unnecessary too, da?" He discarded it onto the thick red carpet beside their outer garments with a quick flick of his wrist.

The Russian man allowed her to do the same with his underwear, in turn reaching to fiddle with the crimson ribbon on the front of her corset. But he did not finish tugging free the lacing, pausing to look at her. "So is yours. But it suits you so, we should not throw it away."

Since it was her Big Brother, The Republic of Belarus allowed her knife to be taken putting up no resistance. "True, no more games. Just me, you and tonight. " She purred.

Natalya gave a small laugh, rare but melodic in sound. "I am pleased you are liking it, my dearest. I bought it for you. But we all must make sacrifices for love. I'd do anything."

The lady Nation paused, running her other hand down his neck and chest slowly to at last join the other. "Will you?"

Laughing slightly, the Male Nation nodded, giving Natalya a kiss on the mouth, smearing the scarlet lipstick over both their faces before he pulled back to undress her.

Continuing to pull at the silky soft ribbon, unwinding it and sliding the bra and corset off his wife's beautifully formed upper body, revealing her large, firm, round breasts and white, glistening, toned abs.

He slipped the satin undergarments over her hips and tried to pull away her panties. "Da, anything, Dear Sestra." He nodded.

Natalya kissed him back, deepening their make-out session right up until he pulled away and began undressing her, twitching her hips around to quicken the process, almost dancing out of her lingerie.

Then the Belarusian lowered her body even closer to her Russian lover's and whispered into his ear, "Let's become one again then, Brother darling."

Her husband smiled and pulled her in as he, too, moved their bodies closer, kissing her neck softly. "Da, come on, Nata." He replied softly, just before his words gave way to moans again as his dear wife initiated an intimate encounter that blew both their minds.

When at last Natalya fell back at the end of their steamy session of love-making, Ivan slipped his arms around her waist and used them to easily catch her and pull her close against chest again.

He positioned her so she lay, gently cuddled to one side of his chest. Looking down, he smiled and kissed the golden sheeny-shining top of her head.

"You're incredible. In more ways than one. I love you, Nattie." He breathed softly as he held her.

As they finished their session of love-making, Natalya met her Brother's gaze and gave an adoring, beautifully rare smile. She felt him catch her around the waist and pull her close, and she reached up, wrapping her arms around his neck.

There she stayed, cuddled into his side, nuzzling her head softly against his shoulder, thinking of their love, their past, their present, their future, everything about them really, just anything that involved her, her love, and happiness.

Ivan's soft, loving kiss and sweetly sentimental words snapped her out of her fantasies, memories, and thoughts. Her smile widened. "I love you too, Big Brother, darling. Always, forever. Our souls are one." She told him in a whisper.

After that, she drifted off to sleep on his chest, where she knew she was warm, safe, and most importantly, loved. The Belarusian fell gently into her sweet dreams of her beloved and their Union State.

Ivan listened to her sleepily whispered words and laughed softly. "Da, I know." He answered quietly.

The Russian Male turned to give her another kiss, just in time to see her Sapphire eyes flutter closed. He lay still for a while, staying there despite the uncomfortable angle of his head and the fact one of his arms was going dead.

He couldn't bear to move, even though he would be more comfortable if he did. He needed to stay, embracing her very rare blissful, contented look. The feeling of closeness and complete peace between them, filling their lives for once. The fragrant and familiar scent of his Dearest Belarus.

Natalya gave a small snore, her chest gently rising, then falling again as her breathing pattern adjusted to that needed by her slumbering body.

She unconsciously rolled closer to him, pressing against Ivan and snuggling tight into his side. She fitted neatly into his hold. Perfectly. It kept her comfortable. And despite the fact they were both cold Nations and the blanket was beneath them, the temperature didn't wake her when her husband held her. He warmed her. Inside and out.

So the Belarusian woman's sleep remained peaceful and undisturbed, even as darkness fell over their clothes-strewn room, their suburban mansion, the City stretching to one side of it, the pinewoods stretching to the other. The bright silvery moon rose and the wolves in the woods howled.

Nothing could wake the usually light sleeping Nation.

Ivan cradled her close. She was so precious, his dear Little Sister. Always with him. The one who stayed. No matter what. And she was so beautiful too. Despite everything, their marriage pleased him.

He struggled now to believe he'd ever resisted her, as he stroked her face, it's pale tone enhanced by the moonlight.

Finally, the Russian conceded that he was tired. He couldn't stay and stare at her all night, much he'd love too. So, at last, he closed his violet eyes tight, and peaceful sleep came. Dreams of a happy future, with all his family around him.

Until morning.


	5. The Morning After

When the day did, at last, dawn, Belarus, first to sleep, was also first to get up and greet it. She rose, stretching gently, and found herself still rested in Ivan's grip.

Planting a small, soft kiss on his dimpled cheek, by the peaceful smile sleep had gifted him, she slipped free and leapt neatly off the bed, not wanting to hurt her husband's arm too much, nor sleep in too late.

The Belarusian cast her almond shaped eyes over the cluttered room. She sighed. The one bad thing about the fun of last night was the mess their spontaneous reactions to each other caused.

She bent over, picking up her underwear, and the neatly folded pile of clothes and accessories the preparations for Ivan's surprise had left the evening before, beginning to dress.

Russia, too, usually slept lightly. But he'd stayed awake longer than he cared to admit the night before and Natalya's movement failed to wake him.

He lay peacefully snoozing, his head resting on his side of the pillows and the blanket cushioning his back, still dreaming.

Only when he rolled to one side did Russia noticed the lack of his wife's presence. Then he was wide awake, and his purple eyes shot open with a start, darkening with a blazing rage at the thought of someone taking her from him.

They softened once more when they fell upon the naked form of Belarus, flitting about the room as she tidied up.

Natalya, innocently unaware of both her husband's 'late sleeping' and the fact that it had come to an abrupt end, balanced herself upon the very end of her side of the bed delicately.

Perched there, the Belarusian slipped the panties of her lingerie set over her ankles, followed by her suspender belt, knife-holding garters, and finally, the dark grey translucent stockings she always wore.

She bent her head, looking at her thighs as she adjusted the black lace at the edge of her panties so that it revealed the shining gold clips of her suspenders, with which she fiddled. There was a slight snapping sound as she mimicked that move with her bra strap, then the sound of metal sliding into place as she took her discarded knife and slipped them into her dark red velvet garters.

The lady laced up her corset, tying the bow neatly before putting on her sleek, point-heeled black shoes and standing up. She pulled her dress over her head and smoothed it, buttoning her cuffs and tying the black bow around her white collar. Her hands straightened the dark purple satin one last time.

Then she reached for the hairbrush and brushed her pale golden locks to silk before, at last, fastening her white bow in place atop her head and checking her reflection in the mirror.

It was then that Belarus noticed her messed up, smudged lipstick. She sighed. It made her look like a deranged killer cannibal. Quickly grabbing a wipe and the tube of red make-up, she hurriedly attended to it before picking up and folding Ivan's clothes, which she placed on the end of their bed.

Ivan watched quietly as she dressed, realising she hadn't noticed that he had awakened. He grinned to himself as he watched her put his clothes down and move away, still unaware.

Sneaking out of bed, he silently approached her from behind and wrapped his arms around her waist again, nuzzling the back of her neck. "'Morning, my Sunshine." He cooed softly, smooching her neck and cheeks softly.

"Spasiba for sorting my clothes out, Natasha, Dear." The Russian added as he slowly pulled away, turning and picking up his clothes.

Natalya jumped in surprise, tensing up. Then she heard her dear Brother's voice and smiled. "Good morning, Darling." She answered, turning slightly to kiss his face gently.

"You're welcome, Sweetheart." She added. "It seems as though we made a little mess with our passion, so I tidied it." She gave a small laugh.

"Still, It was a good night. I enjoyed it. I enjoyed _you."_ She told him softly, stroking his face as she spoke.

Ivan chuckled slightly and spun her around, kissing her lips, though this time being careful of her newly applied lipstick. "You're a treasure, Bela." He told her, before heading to get dressed.

He took one of her make-up wipes too and wiped away the traces of their last kissing session. Then he too went and sat on the edge of their bed and pulled on his crumpled scarlet briefs and dark green trousers, doing up his belt.

The Russian grabbed his ebony tank top and yanked it over his head and stood, slipping his usual tan-brown coat back on, adjusting his star-shaped medal before tying his precious beige scarf in place. Then he quickly borrowed her hairbrush to tidy his ashen locks up and slipped his dark brown boots on.

"Well, it was a wonderful night, but, breakfast time now, da?" The hungry Male commented as he finished getting ready

Natalya smiled and kissed Ivan softly. "As are you, Brother, Dearest." She answered, standing back to watch him.

She smiled as she stood and watched her beloved Brother and, at long last, husband move around, getting ready for the new day. It was so...secure. Safe. She had him here with her now. No more waiting, chasing, or nagging. Just love.

When he rose again, she went over and took his arm, snuggling into it and giving a small nod. "Dy." The Belarusian woman agreed. "Breakfast."

Belarus was not hungry, but to act out a part of a settled, happy, domestic routine with her Brother was an ever-thrilling thought, despite the fact it was really just a small part of life. A dull morning necessity to most.

Ivan laughed softly, taking her arm and returning the kiss she'd given him earlier.

He led his sister gently downstairs, going ahead and taking her arm for each step until they, at last, reached the ground floor and he escorted her through the living room door.

Russia's eyes travelled to the big bay window at the opposite end of the large room. Outside the ground was frosted over, but faint sunshine glistened off the icy surface, and by her side it was warm.

The man gave another smile. "We've missed the sunrise, Sister. You must have slept well."

Natalya shrugged. "I don't need the sunrise when you are there. You're what makes me sleep better. You, our family, being safe, knowing you'll never leave me." She flashed her brother her small, rare smile.

Leaning in and pulling him closer, she kissed him deeply, tangling her tongue with his for a long moment, reinforcing the adoration expressed in her words.

Then the Belarusian planted a smaller kiss on her elder Brother's cheek and hurried off into the kitchen to get him something for breakfast. There was some noise as the woman hunted around her.

Meanwhile, her husband hummed his national anthem softly to himself, settling down at the table and gazing out of the window again, deep in thought about his life. It had taken quite a dramatic change in the last seventeen years. For a start, he'd finally given into his younger sister's pressured marriage requests. Surprisingly, it had made him very happy.

His mind wandered to their daughters, Moscow and Minsk, currently sleeping in their rooms above him. He'd never, ever thought he'd love his sister deeply enough to have children with her. But two years after their marriage, Moscow had been born, and ten years later, Minsk followed. The thought of his family brought a smile to his face, despite the difficulties his youngest daughter sometimes gave him.

As if on cue, footsteps thumped down the stairs, and a sleepy-eyed Minsk, clad in a pale pink nightgown, appeared in the doorway. Ivan's humming stopped and he glanced at his tussle-haired, blinking daughter, somewhat nervously. Inna was a very strange girl, he knew, one day it seemed as though she hated him, the next, she would claim she loved him. Unsure what she'd do, and what her mood might be this morning, the Russian man waited quietly.

For a while, the young girl stared, standing stock still. Then she finally spoke, in a hushed, almost awed tone. "Papa...You're... _not dead_?" She questioned, sounding shocked.

He laughed. "Of course not, Petal! Why would I be dead?" He responded, as confused by her as usual.

"I heard ghosts in your room last night!" She told him in a rush.

"Ghosts?" He tilted his head enquiringly. Maybe Natalya had been talking to the spirits again, and he hadn't overheard her this time.

The young City nodded. "There was moaning. I heard Mama calling to you for help. Is she okay now?" She answered, a concerned tone to her voice.

Ivan paused as he realised what those 'ghosts' were, blushing awkwardly. "Ah...Da, she's well, Dear. The ghosts are all gone now..." He mumbled, a little embarrassed.

Moscow saved him from further awkwardness then, by coming downstairs in her dark purple pyjamas **,** rubbing her eyes. She hurried her little sister out of the doorway and closed the door behind her.

Then, scooping up her five, or as Inna insisted, 'nearly six' year old sister and carrying her round to the other side of the table, the teenaged City seated herself opposite her father and waited for breakfast to be ready.

They weren't waiting much longer, for soon Natalya remerged, a breakfast tray in her arms, placing it on the table, she leaned over to kiss first Minsk then Moscow upon the forehead by way of morning greeting. Ivan received a longer kiss on the lips.

After she'd given her family the affectionate greeting she felt should go with their meal, the Belarusian woman sat at her beloved husband's side and watched her family begin another day together. It was a good job the food was hot enough to warm her tongue or she may have thought it was all a dream.

Seventeen years ago it would have been. The kind of dream she had every night, and woke up from at five A.M, feeling as though some part of her was missing.


	6. Happy Memories (Flashback Sequence 1)

Natalya Rusovna Braginskaya ate her breakfast quietly, barely tasting it. She was too busy savouring this life that she'd wanted, dreamt of, chased after, so, _oh so,_ desperately for years, now that it sat right in front of her.

The Belarusian woman's indigo eyes travelled to her darling Brother's face, softly smiling as he ate, and her mind flashed backwards, through seventeen happy years...

* * *

 _It was a perfectly normal day, or so it seemed, and Natalya Rusovna Arlovskaya couldn't have ever imagined how special it would become to her. She couldn't even begin to imagine that, after so much time, her latest plan might actually work and her dreams may actually become reality._

 _It was late March. March 25, 1996, to be precise, and the Female Nation was making a very familiar journey. The journey to the door of her Big Brother's house. She had the wooden door in her sights now and started to speed up, hinting at her excitement, though her expression betrayed no emotions._

 _But that was because her thoughts occupied her completely. Her thoughts of Him. Her love. Her Brother. Her soul mate. This morning seeing him was particularly important. Because, this time, her proposal wasn't just a chant, begging, pleading, even threatening him into marriage._

 _That was getting nowhere. No, this time Belarus had a plan, and an offer Russia surely could never refuse. She even had support, political support from both their bosses. It was all arranged. She would_ _marry Ivan. Nothing would stop their love this time._

 _The Republic's journey ended abruptly as she came to face to face with the heavy, dark, wooden door, snapping her out of her thoughts. Placing one hand on the sheeny door handle, she didn't bother knocking but twisted it roughly, forcing the door open with a creek._

 _Inside, she could see no one. Peering around suspiciously, Natalya stepped into the hall. She strode forward. I will find him, no matter what, she told herself as she looked first into his kitchen. No one was there. Next, she headed to the doorway of the dining room._

 _Ivan was sat at the table, a letter in his hands, his face even paler than normal and unusually expressionless. It struck her instantly that something was wrong. He hadn't even heard her enter. "Brother." She said simply, hoping to attract his attention before enquiring._

 _The Russian looked up, violet eyes landing on his youngest sister. "Belarus. This is your doing, da?" He held up the letter._

 _The woman smiled slightly. He knew, now._

 _"Ah, it reached you. I was speaking with my boss the other day. He was speaking with your boss. Everyone is thinking it is a good idea. We should be married soon, Brother, Dear." She answered._

 _Ivan sighed. "You were never thinking of asking me?!" He said indignantly._

 _Natalya's face flickered and, shockingly, tears welled up in her eyes. "I did! Again and again...But you never want me." She mumbled, sniffling. Quickly turning away, the Belarusian hid her tears. "If our wedding is not making you happy, I guess I will leave you now. I shall call it off since I cannot please you." She answered._

 _The Russian man's heart beat faster and for a moment he couldn't breathe. Natalya never cried. Ever. Nor did she ever give up, for anything. Could it be he was wrong? For he'd never thought his sister was truly in love with him. He'd always believed she was a confused young girl, messed up by their rather hectic history, and motivated only by loneliness and perhaps encouraged by devious politicians._ _But if he'd only known...He would have married her in a heartbeat._

 _It would have silenced all his inner fears of being left by the Dear Sister he had grown to love and adore almost as much as she loved and adored him, if in a slightly less scary way. He wouldn't worry that if he agreed to marry her, she would end up unhappy, and leave._

 _Knowing she really, honestly meant it, and seeing her this emotional over it...It changed everything._

 _She didn't know that though. She needed to. He tentatively stood up and walked to his crying sister, pulling her into his arms._

 _"Da, I know...I'm sorry...I didn't realise, I never realised!" He told her, his voice strained as he tried to emphasise it enough, but never felt he had or could. "I do, Sestra, I do want you. I love you, Nata." He whispered to her._

 _Stunned, Belarus stopped crying and raised her head, Sapphire eyes meeting Amethyst as the siblings stood in surprised silence, only now coming to terms with the truth of their relationship. "Really? Then we can be married...married...married...married...?" She asked softly, the final word seeming to echo as she repeated it, again and again, to stress her point, as she so often did._

 _It was a regular question. Over and over she asked it. But this time was different, special, precious. It changed her life for the very, very best. Because, this time, right here, in reality rather than some sweet dream, Ivan actually nodded._

* * *

 _"_ Natasha...Natasha!" Someone was jogging her shoulder. The Belarusian lady crashed back into reality. "Dy, Brother?" She finally said, a slight blush appearing on her pale cheeks as she realised she'd zoned out again.

"You were staring at me again..." He muttered, slightly uncomfortable. "Breakfast was finished ten minutes ago."

Natalya sighed apologetically. She hated the fact that she'd often let her thoughts go off on a tangent and freak Ivan out, either with something best kept to herself slipping out or by staring blankly at him. Or worse, staring, with a constant smile on her face as she daydreamed, not realising how odd it made her look.

"I'm sorry, Brother. I get so easily distracted and carried away with feelings around you." She answered with a small frown.

Ivan smiled softly and kissed her pink blushing cheeks.

"Aw, how sweet. No reason to be sorry, my dear. Just remember, we have a day to get on with." He told her, playing with her hair gently until the blissfully contented smile her thoughts had brought her returned to her face, no longer creepy now that the vacant look that her eyes wore when she zoned out had vanished, but sweetly pleased to be with him.

"Of course." The Belarusian nodded, running her fingers through his hair too and leaning up to kiss his cheek before heading to get on with the aforementioned day.


	7. A Brush With A Spirit (Well, Nearly)

No matter what came along to distract or influence her, good or bad, Natalya Rusovna Braginskaya had observed throughout her years, life always went on. Her complex history had messed her about, but it had brought her where she was today, which was where she was happiest.

So when her elder brother said, 'We have a day to get on with', she agreed and had no objections to going off to get on with doing just that, despite the fact she was leaving blissful thoughts and beloved memories. She could always reminisce some more, later on. For those reasons, Natalya was not actually concerned or annoyed by the interruption.

In fact, she was ready to get on with everything that needed to be done. The sooner work was out of her way, the sooner she could spend happy moments with her memories and her family.

So the female representation of Belarus moved away from her brother and gathered the dishes disappearing into the kitchen, busying herself with tidying for the second time that morning.

Her teenaged daughter Moscow followed her, joining the Belarusian and doing her best to help her mother out.

This left Ivan uncomfortably alone with his youngest child. He wouldn't be uncomfortable if she wasn't so unreasonably resentful. For reasons he could never fathom, Minsk despised him, though he tried to be a loving father. Then, if he decided it would be better if he left her alone like she so often told him it would, she'd come running to him, whining that she'd missed him, and accusing him of abandoning or neglecting her.

Perhaps, like with Belarus at first, he was approaching it the wrong way. Or maybe all Belarusians were just confusing to him. The Russian man gave a small sigh, leant in and kissed his troublesome child on the forehead before walking out quietly. Inna gave no response but sat, seemingly lost in thought.

While her sister and her mother tidied, her father went to his office to attend to paperwork. Minsk was alone and curious. The mind of a five-year-old works strangely. Especially when that five-year-old is a personified Capital City of a Nation with an unstable political history. So somewhere from the back of that mind surfaced the opinion that her father could not be trusted to make sure their house was not still haunted, and that, by using the occult books her mother kept, she could.

Silently slipping down from her chair, the young girl hauled herself back up the long flight of stairs. First, she went into her room, deciding ghost hunting was a serious business, and digging out the most 'official' outfit she possessed, her traditional Belarusian dress, even though that would have absolutely zero effect on the outcome of her ghost experiment.

It took her a few minutes to dress, but once the deed was done, the small girl set off down the corridor to her parent's room, serious-faced but rather nervous, wondering what exactly 'ghosts' were like and just how dangerous they were. But, nevertheless, she _must_ protect her family. Even her father.

So the young City padded into the large room and made her way to her mother's private chest of drawers, glancing cautiously this way and that from time to time.

As she reached it, she gave the handle of the lowest drawer a light tug and it slid open easily. Inside lay a leather bound, dark covered book, dated the year in golden lettering. Mama's diary, she noted, glancing down at it. But fortunately, she realised that she shouldn't read it and that it wasn't why she came and moved it aside.

There were dozens more, going years back, but eventually, at the bottom of the stack in the deep drawer, lay a slim brown book, covered in symbols, with the title embossed upon its cover. _An occult guide to Exorcism._

She stared at it, her lilac eyes wide. Then, after a few awestruck moments of silence and stillness, the Belarusian child gently slid it out and replaced her mother's diaries neatly, shutting the drawer.

A child of only five years messing with an Exorcism guide, whether it was real or not, could have been very, very dangerous if it wasn't for the timely and fortunate intervention of her mother.

Having finished the tidying, Belarus had sent her eldest child off to dress and decided she should go to her room, where most of her personal treasured possessions were kept, and read through her old diaries, since her flashback at breakfast, the past had been very much on her mind, and with her work finished, she had decided to return to her recollection.

When entering, she gasped quietly at the sight of the small girl by the bed. "Minsk, what is going on?" She enquired, expecting her daughter to be downstairs, playing.

"Don't worry, Mama, I'm going to get rid of the ghosts," Minsk answered with calm determination, as she opened up the book and began flipping through it.

"Ghosts? There are no ghosts present at the moment, Dear. And the ones in this room are quite pleasant. Now put that book down, it's dangerous to mess around with." She lectured.

Her young daughter sighed. "Fine..." She huffed, pouting as she dropped the book. "I'll go and see Siastra." She told her, mooching off to find Moscow and hopefully also find something else to do. Something no one would interrupt just when she reached the main part.

The Belarusian nodded slightly at her youngest offspring's disappearing back before positioning herself upon the edge of her bed once again, opening up the drawer and closing her exorcism guide.

Then she leant down and reached into the drawer, swapping the book for one of her old diaries from the neat stack within the mahogany container. After a moment's pause, Natalya thought of her flashback that morning and selected the journal labelled 1996.


	8. Marriage (Flashback Sequence 2)

It wasn't often that Natalya Rusovna Braginskaya, the Female representation of the Republic of Belarus, got the opportunity to sit down to read over her old cherished memories, carefully encased in her number of old-fashioned leather-bound diaries.

But all morning, while she tidied away from breakfast by the side of her Brother's capital and her eldest daughter, her mind had dwelt upon her past. Specifically the happiest time of her life. The turning point when her dreams came true. April 2, 1996.

So she'd hurried to finish her work and the tidying, slipping away at last she finished, to go through her happier history in peace. Now she sat on the edge of the bed she shared with her husband, gripping her favourite one of her old journals. Well, the one with her favourite and most joyfully looked back on memories hidden away within it, at any rate.

Natalya flipped to the diary entry from the day that had been running through her mind almost all morning and gazed over the historical words on the crisp, pale pages, filled to the brim with happy memories...

* * *

 _Today is the day of my dream. Marriage. Big Brother and I are to be one. I awoke and rose from my bed at four instead of five this morning, but rather than watching the dawn over my lands, I prepared for my wedding._

 _First I called Big Sister and awakened her. I could use her assistance to make my day perfect, just as I have been planning for so long._

 _She arrived with the hired wedding car and driver I have booked. It will take me to my Brat's side at last. He awaits our wedding in Moscow. Once he is prepared, he will wait for that car in St. Basil's Cathedral. Not so much for the car, though, as for me. His bride._

 _Then later it will take us to Brother's home for celebrations. And I will move in with my new husband..._

 _Siastra had also promised to aid me with my make-up and kindly followed through with her promise. I am using my usual style and colours, but I do not feel I could concentrate on it myself this morning and I must make sure I am looking so good that he will never regret our precious marriage. She also assisted me by putting my hair up into a bun and helped me on with my tiara._

 _Although, Ukraine seems to be thinking I am strange for marrying without 'traditional' white. I am all for tradition, but I feel that in a gown, white is not my colour._

 _So, I have something that is making my skin tone stand out and will define my features. Brat shall not take his eyes away from me. It is black, flowing-skirted, with a tight, dark purple bodice that has no straps and a low cut 'sweetheart' neckline. There are artificial roses upon the waist, but I shall carry sunflowers. Brother's favourite._

 _She is nervous for us too, but I imagine it will go perfectly. The next step is to have Big Brother's babies. A whole army of them, I wish! If they could all be as special as Brother I may die of too much happiness._

 _Raising children with Brother, too, would be a dream come true. I wonder what our little ones will look like. Hopefully like Brother. But there is so much I look forward to finding out about our as yet unborn babies. Their names, personalities, what they'll like and what they'll dislike. It will be a blissful experience if I should ever be lucky enough to find out._

 _And I'm certain my darling Brother will be a wonderful father. He is so caring and brilliant with children, just so long as I can prevent him from giving them Vodka like he did when I was little. That made Siastra cross..._

 _But on the subject of mine and Brother's offspring, I can only hope I will be a good parent too. Motherhood isn't something I know about though._

 _I guess it'll work out with Brother by my side. Everything else has done. He makes things right for me, no matter what problems I might have. Our love is all that truly matters, and it will always be that way. But especially right now, on our wedding day, when our Union is the most important thing in the whole Universe._

 _I can hardly wait for our wedding vows and the future that will follow them, after we are joined together as one, never to be parted again, if all goes as it should. No, must. It needs to be perfect. I must be with Big Brother, forever._

* * *

Sitting on her and her husband's bed, a small smile crept onto Natalya's face as she read the seventeen-year-old entry, detailing her wedding and her feelings on the long-awaited marriage. She had those 'babies' now, and they were growing. What was the next step now?

It was a simple question. She already knew the answer. To keep her life this way. Except including the big-hearted Big Sister who'd helped her so much with her wedding, and with so much more. To make her life perfect, by keeping her precious family close to her side, forever. And to make sure they were safe and happy. Whatever the potential costs.

But, at least for now, the Belarusian was content in her marriage and motherhood. It was, after all, a lifelong dream. The rest could wait until the future.

She lay back on the bed, gazing upwards at the ceiling and daydreaming a little, letting her mind wander from past years of happy marriage and watching her children grew, to that future in which Ukraine, too, lived by their side, and her children were grown fully, as content as she was, and Minsk was at peace with her father.

And hopefully no longer thinking of ghosts, the Belarusian added to herself, recalling that awkward pre-breakfast conversation and its aftermath.

But that was only a minor worry, and she pushed it away, much preferring her own mind's lovely, if a little idealistic, visions of the years that were, hopefully, to come.


	9. Parenthood (Flashback Sequence 3)

While his wife and children were upstairs, Ivan Rusovich Braginsky was sitting in his office, staring into space, not actually working. He _had_ intended to, but even with the best intentions, one could easily become distracted. And Russia, sitting completely still, looking through rather than at the wall of the room, was definitely distracted.

His head was currently occupied by thoughts of his children. He liked children. He'd always wanted children. His love for his daughters was immense. So why did his youngest daughter hate him so?

He'd tried. _Really_ tried. He'd given them everything. Well, of course, he had, after all, he'd been so worried when he first knew he'd be a father. Everything about his dear children was so easy to recall. That worry included...

* * *

 _Natalya walked into the bedroom as Ivan was getting ready for bed._ _He turned to greet her with a smile and a kiss, but her face stopped him in his tracks._

 _She looked...sort of lost. As though she wasn't sure what to feel or think. As though something had seized and shaken up her whole world, throwing pieces about, and she was struggling to find them all again. She walked past him, seating herself on the edge of the bed and then looked up at him, biting her lower lip nervously._

 _He'd never, ever seen Belarus nervous, despite how long he'd known her. He went over and sat beside her, putting an arm around her shoulders. "Nat?" He asked tentatively. "What's wrong?"_

 _The Belarusian paused for a long-seeming minute. Then she spoke her answer. An answer that changed their lives. "I'm pregnant..."_

 _Both Ivan and Natalya had always expected it to be a blissful moment. But it came with a sobering batch of worries too. For a start, it raised questions about their future. Nations very rarely had children biologically, save for the 'ancients', who faded away soon after. Russia wanted children. But he wasn't ready to lose his wife and sister._

 _Secondly, the child may be the one to die instead. It was extremely unlikely that both parents and their child would survive. The children of Nations were rare because they were often very weak while they were young. Unstable and sickly._

 _As Natalya's due date drew closer, Ivan became increasingly paranoid. Never more so than the morning of the 6th September, when she woke him early, at about three A.M, in obvious pain. He rushed her to the hospital, and stood by her bedside, holding her hand as she screamed out, crushing his fingers together._

 _But after what seemed like an excruciatingly long time, her grip slackened and a nurse handed him a bawling infant, whom Natalya sat up to peer at. Ukraine, who he'd called just after they arrived at the hospital, put her head over his shoulder and cooed over her new niece's 'sweet' resemblance to a much younger Natalya._

That _was when it became the expected blissful moment. When he held his daughter for the first time._

 _But he never stopped worrying. Even when Nastasya grew up. And he'd never stop protecting her._

 _It had been a pleasant surprise to see his capital grow. Natalya hadn't faded, though effects of birthing a child, let alone a City, especially since it was another country's Capital, had weakened her for a little while after the birth. But time passed and she recovered. Nastasya Ivanovna Braginskaya remained a robust child too._

 _When she was older, Natalya came to speak with him._

 _"Moscow's well." She began simply._

 _"Da, she is." He smiled._

 _Natalya nodded. "So, Brother, have you ever thought about having another child?" She asked softly._

 _He paused and looked at her curiously. "Well, do you want to, Sister?" The Russian asked._

 _Again, she nodded. "I've always wanted to see my own Capital."_

 _He nodded too but questioned her. "You are sure you can manage, da? I don't want to lose you."_

 _"You are still worrying about that?" She sighed. "I will be fine, Brother. Besides, my own City should be easier."_

 _So he agreed, keeping quiet about his returning fears._

 _And again, when Minsk was born, he was there for her, holding her hand. Ukraine was outside in the waiting room, looking after the ten-year-old Moscow. They bustled in as soon as Belarus's cries changed to a baby's. He'd been just as doting to her, too..._

* * *

So where did it go wrong...? He wondered as he remembered it all. Perhaps he just shouldn't have had children. Perhaps he wasn't as good with them as he'd thought. Perhaps...

That train of thought was interrupted by Moscow, pushing open his office door with a small creek and putting her pale face around the door. "Papa...?" She called out.

Ivan got up and went over to his eldest daughter, pulling her inside and into a hug. "At least you love me, da?" He muttered.

"Uh...da..." She nodded, looking up at him in surprise.

"Ah, so I'm not a terrible father..." He whispered, mostly to himself. But since they were so close right now, the Muscovite heard his words and frowned.

"Nyet...is this about Little Sestra?" She asked softly. Her father nodded, looking down sadly. "She does love you... _Sort of_. She's just...confused, I guess..." Nastasya tried to comfort him, though she didn't fully understand the logic behind her sister's attitude herself, and it sometimes bothered her, too. Nevertheless, she leant closer, trying to make him feel better by kissing his cheek softly.

Ivan wasn't sure if he believed her fully, or if that was comforting at all, but, pushing the thoughts to the back of his mind, he allowed himself to be soothed by his child's comments and moved on. "Anyway," He smiled, "You came for a reason, da? What is it, Petal?"

The city nodded, giving her father a half smile. "Sister was bored, so she and I made cookies. Can we take some to Auntie Ukraine's home?"

"Da, that's a sweet idea. I'm sure she'll be pleased to see you...If her boss isn't around. I'll take you in a moment, sweetheart. Let me fetch your Mama." The Russian man answered, kissing his daughter's forehead as he slid past her and went to find his wife.


	10. Belarus's Happily Ever After

Natalya was still laying on their bed, lost in her daydreams when Ivan entered. "Natasha, Sunshine, you are in here, da?" He called out as he peered around the frame of the door. "What are you doing?" He added curiously, seeing her lying there, her diary discarded on the bed, seemingly doing nothing.

"Hm? Oh, Brother. Dy, I'm here...it's not important." His Sister answered as she sat up, a mildly surprised expression momentarily crossing her face as she was tugged back from her future focused fantasies to the real, present-day world by the main object of both her thoughts and her affections.

"You're sure, da? Because if you are not busy, we are going to visit Big Sister. It has been a while now, and the children miss her. They have been making presents." Russia told her, offering a small explanation for the unplanned trip as he mentioned it, feeling as though he ought to tell his wife why they were going off for a spontaneous outing all of a sudden.

At the merest mention of her eldest sibling, of whom she'd been thinking only a few moments ago, the Belarusian Republic quickly got up from her bed, shoving her diary hastily back into the lowest of the mahogany drawers at the side of her bed.

"I am not busy. Let us go and visit Siastra Ukraine's house." She told him, her face turning back to her often worn expressionless look, but her voice giving away her obvious eagerness to see her dear Big Sister, Iryna, once more, after missing her so much, for so long.

Ivan laughed slightly at her enthusiasm and took her hand, heading back down the long flight of stairs, gathering their daughters and leading his family outside, with Moscow carrying a box of cookies in her arms.

When they, at last, arrived in Kiev and reached the eldest of the Slav family's home, Belarus tapped sharply on her Sister's door.

The knock caught Iryna Rusivna Chernenka off guard and she jumped a little, dropping the woollen item she was knitting.

Standing up, the Ukrainian hurried to the door and opened it up. A startled but nevertheless cheerful expression came over her face as she was greeted by the sight of her family, whom she rarely saw these days.

She happily waved them inside, asking about their well-being and the reasoning behind their pleasantly surprising visit as she embraced them and kissed her the cheeks of her siblings and the foreheads of her two young nieces.

The answers satisfied her well enough, and she, in turn, answered her siblings own versions about her life, only choosing to conveniently ignore one, that being Ivan's request for her to 'become one with him'.

The elder woman seemed very pleased with the baked gifts from her nieces, which she insisted on sharing out, passing them around with drinks, handing her Brother and Sister glasses of Vodka and passing the children some Kompot, despite Moscow's protests that she wanted Vodka too, which only caused Russia to argue her case until Ukraine and Belarus both launched into simultaneous lectures about 'irresponsible parenting' and 'underage drinking'.

Then the family settled down, seating themselves to chat with their food and drinks, Ivan and Natalya cuddling on the sofa, while Moscow occupied one of the two armchairs, and Inna lay in her Aunt's lap in the other armchair.

But, though her own glass of Vodka and her cookies were lovely, Iryna was without a doubt most pleased just to see her little siblings again. They used to live with her, and of course, then they saw each other every day. But it wasn't often now, with political factors coming between them, and their children keeping them busy, that they had family time.

Getting to see her whole family actually, happily, willingly sitting down together in the same room, with no arguing, and getting along was a rare privilege for the Ukrainian, and she enjoyed it with a wide smile, full of love and joy.

Similarly, an equally happy, albeit smaller smile rested on Belarus's lips as she looked around, for once seeing all her beloved in the same room, all looking quite content.

The whole family were full of surprisingly cheerful chatter, a rare occurrence for some of them, and had a lot to catch up on, making it late evening before Belarus, Russia, Minsk, and Moscow finally headed jubilantly home, overjoyed with the outcome of their eventful but enjoyable day.

By the time they finally got back into their house, It was quite late, and the tired relatives took turns to shower and change into their night clothes.

Then Belarus took a sleepy little Minsk to her bedroom and tucked her into bed, kissing her forehead as she bade her Capital goodnight. Meanwhile, Ivan kissed his own Capital and wished her sweet dreams. The young Cities both fell into a quiet slumber quickly enough.

So the adult Nations went to bed again, curling up in each other's arms to sleep once more. She lay her head on her husband's chest, letting the gentle rise and fall as he breathed sooth her to sleep, and just before she drifted off to dreams again, the Republic of Belarus had only one wish. That every _single_ day could be as _perfect_ as that one.

Russia had a similar thought as he closed his eyes and fell back into dreams resembling those of the night before. Dreams of love, happiness, and a promise for the future.

Like Belarus's daydreams, the night-time dreams of the Slavic couple were both of their family's future happiness, with everybody they cared for all united in their fairytale endings, laughing, smiling and hugging, together, forever.

The kind of dreams the two Nations _hoped_ with all their hearts would be the ones that might someday come true, and make their future, and future of their Sister, their children, their nations, their people and everything else that they held dear as absolutely _perfect_ as it was in their dreams _._


	11. New Day, Same Family

It wasn't until the early hours of the morning that Belarus awoke from her sweet dream-filled slumber. Rolling onto her side, the Female nation gazed at her still sleepy husband for a few minutes, before once again sliding easily from his grip, planting a kiss on his cheek as she left their bed, something she did every morning, if, as usual, she woke before Ivan.

The early morning sunshine was already beginning to peek above the skyline, giving the Russian flag embossed curtains a slightly translucent appearance as Natalya walked over to them and reached for them, pulling them apart and pinning them back, allowing her to slip the small key she'd taken from her dresser drawer into the lock that held the long, door-like French windows shut.

With a quick twist, the Belarusian woman opened up the lock, granting herself access to the small balcony. It was rarely used, due to the frequent cold weather, but she liked to go to the long glass window panes and look out at the sunrise when she woke early, and just this once, Natalya decided she'd go outdoors to watch the dawn.

The air was icily cold, even with the faint sun rays glinting off her silken nightdress, worn instead of discarded on this particular morning. But the beauty of the view warmed the young Female Nation from the inside out. She stood in awed silence as she watched time pass slowly.

There was a freezing blast of air running through his bedroom, and his wife had seemingly vanished again, Russia tetchily observed as the draft blowing from the parted windows disturbed him from his favourite dream. Rubbing his eyes, he sat up, scowling at his still sleep-blurred surroundings.

It was then, after blinking a couple of times to clear his vision, that he took note of the fact that the windows that served as balcony doors, most often closed, were wide open, cold air and early morning light pouring into assault his barely open violet eyes. There was only one other person who knew where the key was kept.

Whatever had entered his sister's head _this_ time _?_ He was aware of Natalya's unusual urge to see the sun as it rose, but she usually staid in the warmth while she did so. Blinking sleep out of his eyes and grabbing his dressing gown, the Russian man followed her out of the doors, eager to find out what she was up to.

"Sestra? Why are the doors open? It's much too cold for that, da?" He complained as he walked up behind her, getting wider and wider awake as the cold air attacked him, causing him to pull his soft red dressing gown closer around his body.

"Look, Brother. Is it not beautiful?" The other Nation answered, her face still turned to watch the beginning of yet another new day. True, she did this every morning, but somehow the beauty of the world she was a part of still astounded her. Such a shame the rest of it outside her family and country seemed to be filled with morons, she privately decided.

While Natalya paused for thought, Ivan obeyed her, looking out over the railings of their small balcony and upwards.

The sky was a gentle baby blue, excluding the clouds that surrounded a shimmering disk of pure gold that was slowly rising progressively higher and further west, as the droplets of sparkling sunshine had dyed them a bright red, as a reminder of its own fiery essence. The rays that didn't just stop at clouds, sending their colour downwards to glitter off the white blanket of snow, the city buildings to one side of them, the tall, shining needle-like leaves of the evergreen woods on the other, and the eyes and forms of its watchers.

A small gasp escaped him just before the beauty stole his breath, as it became very clear why she loved to watch nature blessing each day as it began, and he no longer felt the cold air that softly brushed against their skin. With this realisation came a memory. The memory of why he'd started calling her by the pet name of 'Sunshine' in the first place.

Because she was gorgeous, her hair as golden as the first, pale rays of morning sun, and her face as breathtakingly pretty. Yet she was incredibly dangerous, and while the sun had the power to burn, Natalya had a scathing tongue, a number of weapons, and a temper that could terrify anyone. And she was also necessary for life, at least for his life, since she was his sister, his wife and the mother of his children.

Still struggling to speak as he reeled from both his thoughts and the scene's beauty, he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her slight waist, pulling her into a tight hug, kissing her neck and cheek softly. "It...it is very, very beautiful, da, but you, my Dear Sunshine, are even more beautiful." He cooed into her ear as he regained the power of speech.

Natalya's own thoughts faded away as she felt Ivan take hold of her and pull her gently against him, and it was her turn to gasp as he began to press kisses along the side of her neck and face.

Hearing his compliment, she raised her arm up and coiled it about her beloved's bent neck, close to his head and ran her fingers through the smaller, delicate hairs at the top of his neck, playing with them as his mouth traced her jawline.

"But neither I nor the sunrise are as lovely as you, Darling..." She whispered, cradling his head to her body possessively.

It was then that, having awoken and surprisingly unable to find their usually overprotective, always hovering parents, Moscow and Minsk entered the main bedroom behind them, the elder sister clasping the younger sibling's hand as they curiously peered around.

Unnoticed by their loved-up parents, the Cities searched and spotted the open French windows before them. Nastasya gave the merest hint of a smile as she saw the cuddling and smooching couple, standing in the sunlight. "Sweet..." She mumbled softly, gesturing towards the couple.

Inna screwed up her face. " _Yuck."_ She countered her sister's comment in a thoroughly disgusted tone.

Jolted from their blissful morning by the unexpected intrusion of their formerly assumed to be sleeping offspring, the two Nations turned around, eyes widened in obvious surprise.

Natalya blushed lightly at being caught in such a vulnerable, if enjoyable, position, even by her darling children, in fact perhaps even more so as a result of their appearance, on account of a feeling of guilt over their 'innocence'.

Whereas Ivan just gave a small chuckle at their comments and Minsk's amusing facial expression, before turning back to Belarus, pulling her into another hug, although this time avoiding the passionate kissing, and beckoning their daughters out to join them.

The Muscovite was first to step forward, pushing her way onto the small balcony and standing at the side of her father, leaning a little on his arm.

After her sister dropped her hand and went to join their mother and father, the younger Belarusian hurried forward to the side of her Female parent, hugging Natalya's leg tightly, as the whole family gathered in the bright but cool air of the new day's early morning.

 _Together._


	12. Just Family Things

Standing in unusual but blissful silence, with her most of loved ones close, Belarus lingered a lot longer than she ordinarily may have when watching the rise of the morning sun.

It was only when the rosy hue of the clouds surrounding the early morning sun had faded to a softer version the glowing orb's own fiery gold that she realised how time was passing them by, and, despite her reluctance, slowly began to move away, prising her youngest daughter off her leg and slipping out of her husband's tender embrace.

"Come on...It's breakfast time now." She decided, encouraging them to come inside as well.

Minsk, her 'almost-six' year-old daughter, pouted. "Aw...but it looks so pretty!" The young girl complained as she was removed from her position and turned to watch her mother walking back into the house.

"I know. But that does not change the fact there are things to be done today." Was the elder Belarusian's answer.

Apparently, her mother's response either satisfied Inna, or she did not consider that it was worth arguing her point against her formidable and somewhat strict parent, for she scampered back into the house, her short, messy ashen blonde waves of hair bouncing as she ran to her mother.

A few minutes after hearing her mother and her sister discussing the day that needed to be got on with, Moscow shrugged and turned away from the lovely view too. "Mhm...Breakfast. I'm hungry." She muttered, in reply to Belarus's original comment, stepping back through the French windows that they had left open, and re-entering her parent's bedroom.

Ivan laughed softly and nodded, following his Female relatives inside again.

Minsk turned to her older sister. "Race you downstairs!" She grinned before tearing off. Nastasya rolled her eyes and ran after her, a little more half-heartedly.

"Be _careful,_ " Natalya called out warningly, but she was smiling as she dropped back, slowing to walk at her beloved's side and hold his hand as they watched their children, who were determined to get down the stairs safely, but faster than each other. Or at least, Inna was determined. At fifteen, Moscow really only bothered with such games to humour her sister.

That, combined with the fact she set off first, was probably why she was quickest, reaching the bottom and spinning around to declare loudly than she had 'won', in a rather smug tone.

Again, the elder sibling, who had joined her downstairs, rolled her eyes, declaring that she 'hadn't been trying', possibly truthfully and possibly because her competitive streak refused to allow her to admit a loss. Their parents looked at each other and chuckled about their daughter's antics and games as they followed them down the steps.

Once the running games and jokes about them were finally all over and everyone was downstairs, they began to get on with their day properly again, eating breakfast, getting dressed, and attending to all that needed doing.

It was not until much later, that afternoon in fact, that they all sat down together and relaxed again. Well, Ivan and Natalya sat down together, with the Belarusian woman glaring at the television and occasionally launching into a rant at the 'stupidity' of the various contestants on the trivia show they happened to be watching who didn't know as much she did on their subject.

Ivan, meanwhile, rolled his eyes in good-natured frustration as every fifteen minutes, his attempts to take a quiet nap were interrupted as the flaxen-haired Female, whose head rested on his chest as they cuddled, heard a particular question she could easily answer being treated as though it was hard, and felt the need to loudly express her disdain.

While their parents rested, or in Ivan's case, _tried_ to, Inna and Nastasya had 'settled down' to a rather intense and heated game of Monopoly. Moscow was taking it incredibly seriously, her pale face set in a stoic expression as she silently glared at her little sister.

On the other hand, Minsk, being only five, had quite a loose grip on the game's rules, which was possibly the reason for her sibling's glaring. At intervals, the Russian girl would have to break her silence to attempt an explanation, and the younger city would usually declare the rules 'silly' and 'illogical', causing a hold-up while they got into a debate about the application of the rules of Monopoly in real life.

After finally making the wise decision to give up on sleep, Russia decided for about the thousandth time that, even though he loved them dearly, his family were incredibly _weird._ Even by his standards.

Still, he wouldn't want to change them. Not _really_ , however much Minsk's love-hate, or Belarus's over-enthusiastic love, or Moscow's stoic façade, or even Ukraine's absence may cause him problems. They were precious.

Even when twisting and arguing about the rules of a board game they were taking _far_ too seriously, or ranting and raving at inanimate objects, such as televisions.

His train of happy, sentimental thoughts was rudely derailed by Nastasya suddenly raising her voice.

"You _cannot_ just do _that!_ That isn't how the game _works!"_ His eldest child was protesting.

"Well, when a building isn't being used, it gets knocked down, and you're _not_ using it, 'cause your counter is _there_!" Inna answered, applying her own logic to the current problem.

"You can't just _knock my house down_!" Was the indignant reply from the platinum-haired teenager.

Sighing, the Russian man disentangled himself from Natalya, stood up and went over, inspecting the board carefully.

"Well, I'm not paying for it." Minsk retorted coldly.

"Da, you need to. Moscow is right, it is in the rules." He pointed out, producing a leaflet containing the rules from the discarded game box.

Pouting, Inna picked up the relevant money. She may not get along with her father, but she had a certain amount of grudging respect for his authority.

"Good. Sorted." He smiled, heading back to the couch, only to be grabbed by Belarus and pulled back into a tight hug. The programme had obviously finished, then.

Wrapping an arm around her slight waist, the Male nation gave a small sigh. When did his life turn from being considered a formidable 'superpower' of a nation, to dealing with over-attentive but very lovely siblings, wives debating with inanimate objects, and children squabbling about Monopoly?

It felt like it had always been this way. But still, his sigh was one of content.

 _Because he would not have it any other way._


	13. Emotions

It was a very happy few days until the contented atmosphere of the Braginsky/Braginskaya household evaporated. Natalya's dreams had become more and more frequent, and less cheery. Her sister's absence began to weigh more heavily on her shoulders, and she found herself dwelling on the rift in relations between her sibling's bosses, previously an issue she had tried to leave alone, as her boss had said her country should be kept out of it.

Things for Ivan changed too, as he noticed how Belarus shifted back to sleeping very lightly, and how he seemed unable to calm her just by holding her close to him and kissing her. For the first time since their marriage, the old, sullen and mysterious Natalya was back. She would no longer share her rare smiles with him. Gone too were their daily chats that ranged from playful flirting to deep conversations about love and memories.

That needed to change. He had to know what was wrong. He wanted his sweet little Natasha back. _Now._

To this end, he approached the Belarusian as she sat on the window seat in the living room, gazing outwards at their pocket of the world. "Bela?" Russia called softly, using a small pet name for his dear Little Sister.

Normally, Natalya wouldn't have wasted a second, never having hesitated to respond to her beloved elder brother before. But today, the Russian man's comment barely seemed to register, at least for the first few moments. When she did answer, it was a vague, "Mhm?", All her enthusiasm was gone.

Walking over, he kissed the top of her head as he took a seat beside her. "Well...You do not seem yourself. It's troubling to see you unhappy, da?"

Sighing deeply, the Belarusian looked from the window to her brother. "I...It's just that I miss Big Sister Ukraine..." She muttered, glancing back down.

"What?" Ivan laughed slightly, thinking that she may join in. "Oh, Nattie, always so attached! We saw her not long ago, da?"

But Belarus's response was a frown rather than the expected laughter. "I mean I want to be able to see her whenever we want, like the old days!" She insisted, a slight angry edge to her tone.

Now it was Russia's turn to sigh and frown in response, looking hurt and concerned by her reaction. "Sestra...I know, I know..." He pulled her into a hug. "I miss her too, da? But our bosses do not get along...It is hard for us to see her."

Much to Ivan's surprise, Natalya pushed him away and scowled as tears pricked up in the corners of her deep blue eyes. "Why are politicians such jerks?! We're entire fucking _Nations!_ We should be able to do as we please, and be with our families whenever we like!"

Russia's violet eyes widened in surprise, and he backed off a little, still slightly intimidated by her anger, and unsure how to comfort his distraught sibling, when the system was clearly flawed, yet inescapable. The Nations, grudgingly accepting that, would keep as far from it as possible.

But as her anger faded a little, into sadness, she moved back to him for another hug, hiding her face in his chest and feeling him slide his arms back around her, trying to soothe her. Often, despite or perhaps because of troubles throughout their past, growing up and as adult Nations, they had come together to comfort each other when sad, and now was no different.

It wasn't until Belarus finally raised her head to show a small smile as she, at last, broke the silence of their tears and quiet, comforting understanding, with the words, "We'll always have each other, of course.", that Russia felt it was okay to relax his arms from about her.

"Da, of course." He nodded, kissing her forehead again. "Always."

And he meant it. He would never want to lose his Dear Sister, anyway, especially now that she was also his Darling wife and the mother of his two beloved children. He _couldn't_ lose her.

But seeing how upset being separated from one of her family members made Natalya, the one whose feelings didn't normally manifest themselves in the form of tears, _ever,_ had had a big impact on him. He simply _couldn't_ break her like that, no matter what.

He had been married to her seventeen years, and there, by her side, a lot longer. She had only cried three times throughout all of that, and he wasn't going to make it four.

She was right about two things now, he realised.

The first being that the political system was horrible for Nations, forcing them into marriages and alliances, or alternatively, ripping them out of happy relationships, all for their causes. Every Nation had been through all kinds of things because of various bosses, ones they either hated or loved.

But he wasn't letting that get in the way of the second, most important thing, anymore. _Ever._

Because the second thing Natalya had taught him was that maybe her attachment was a good thing. Because he loved her. _Really_ loved her. He never wanted to lose her. So she was right.

They should never be apart. They _must_ never be apart. And perhaps, to part them was truly unforgivable, as she said. Nothing should come between them.

He, Russia, was truly in love with his Little Sister, Belarus. Even more than he had ever realised throughout their whole marriage, maybe even their whole lives.

And so, Ivan grew more attentive to Natalya, no longer intimidated when her affection became more and more zealous, almost equally Yandere and obsessive in his attitude towards her.

But, the Belarusian didn't mind. To her, that was a normal way to show love. The way she'd always known, used herself and enjoyed in her brother. She noticed his extra affection of course, and the slightly more possessive reaction to people he disliked speaking to her at meetings, and the number of pictures of her that he kept increasing.

But so what? In her mind, that was true love. That was, after all, how she expressed her feelings towards her Darling Brother.

And if said Darling Brother wanted to shower her with love, why would she stop him?

Her biggest desire was 'Big Brother's love'. If his love for her was increasing, then so, once again, did the Republic of Belarus's contentment levels.

Love from her Brother, husband and soul mate was, after all, her idea, besides her dreams, of _absolute perfection_.


	14. Closer

_Long, platinum strands, almost touching short, ashen wisps, close against each other. Sapphire staring into Amethyst, and porcelain skin, matching with the skin it touched. Hearts, beating fast but in unison._

Natalya Rusovna Braginskaya tried to slow her pace, to calm herself back down as these love-crazed thoughts swirled in her mind, dizzying her. She shouldn't still get like this, after so long. It was just a dance. One simple little dance.

One simple little dance with her precious, darling Big Brother, though. For despite their various differences, past and present, the two had always loved to dance together. And since Ivan wanted now to spend more time together, they were putting the emotions of the day before behind them, with a dance.

Telling herself sternly to _focus,_ the Belarusian turned gently in her lover's arms to the music. Perhaps if she wasn't looking into his eyes, she wouldn't be so distracted by him and her overwhelming love for him.

Holding his wife close, the Russian man was quietly admiring her face, the face of his cute little sister, pretty and blushing sweetly, though she probably didn't realise her face was so very pretty, or so very flushed.

Natalya wasn't the sort to get flustered, but he knew she loved their quiet, intimate moments like this. Ivan laughed softly and moved into plant a kiss on her cute, blushing cheek, only to frown as she spun away.

He pulled her around again. "Bela..." He whispered softly, leaning closer. "You're beautiful, you know that, da?"

Natalya felt a tug and spun back to face her Brother, still unable to calm down, in fact, she was feeling her heart beating faster by the second as she looked up once again into his big, violet eyes.

The light pink blush on her cheeks flushed to red as she heard him speak. "I'm not as lovely as you, Dear Brother. But thank you..." She, too, leant in, softly pecking his lips.

Kissing Belarus back as she pressed her lips to his face, Russia felt as though the room, the music, and everything else around them didn't exist anymore.

 _Like it was just the two of them._

Natalya felt the same utterly _blissful_ feeling as she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulled him in as close as she could, and kissed him deeply.

That was probably was why the two Nations failed to notice their children approaching.

Moscow and Minsk had been keeping themselves entertained while their parents relaxed. However, the snowball fight they'd been having hadn't really been Nastasya's definition of fun, and so eventually, when she was able to come out from behind the trees and persuade her sister to agree, or to at least stop pelting her with snow and ice, they had returned to the warmth of their family home.

Once inside, the music softly playing had helped the two Female cities to hunt out their parents, and they had headed to the ballroom, standing now in the doorway, watching quietly.

They were used to catching their parents sharing kisses during the rare, quiet moments in the lives of the Nations and Cities, and so didn't react for while, staring silently into the room, unnoticed by the distracted couple.

As she watched her parents, Moscow began to wonder, a little bitterly, why could she and her sister not be so close? She didn't mean _married_ , or even in some form of incestuous relationship.

It was just, she and Minsk used to be close when her younger sister was still only an infant. Glancing down, the Muscovite frowned. You _used_ to _love_ me, she thought in annoyance.

She didn't say a word to the target of her thoughts, though, merely stepping closer and gently taking her sibling's hand.

Inna wasn't really thinking much as she stared at her parents, just standing, waiting patiently for something interesting to happen. Sure enough, something had happened. She could feel a grip on her small hand.

Raising her head to cast her eyes over her elder sister, she curiously peered at Nastasya's facial expression, and her black-gloved hand tightly squeezed Minsk's own pale fingers.

"Siastra?" The Belarusian girl asked softly, giving her sister's arm a light tug, hoping to gain her attention without loudly disturbing their parents. "What's going on?" She softly enquired, assuming change would mean something was happening.

You tell me, Moscow thought as she sighed, looking down at her sister, then glancing at their happily oblivious parents. She could hardly launch into a long explanation here and start a family drama.

So she spun around and began to hurry off down the corridor, towards her room. She knew if they could get some more privacy, her sister, mature for her young physical age, could be relied on to at least _try_ to listen to her.

Inna trailed after her sister, remaining quiet, but tugging on her arm as they walked, her lilac eyes wide with curiosity. Obviously, her sister wanted something, but she had no idea what.

As they reached Nastasya's room, she pulled her hand from her elder sibling's grip and ran on ahead to look around, thinking that perhaps Moscow wanted to show her something.

But the inside of her sister's room remained much the same as the last time she'd been here, with just the bed, and some shelves of old toys, photos, and other knick-knacks. These days, it was just a place for Moscow to sleep and therefore contained nothing of particular interest to Minsk.

Once she noticed this, she flopped down on the bed's soft red blanket and looked up to the doorway, waiting for Moscow to catch up, so she could quiz her about it.

Nastasya let her sibling whizz off and continued behind her at a more sedate pace, eventually reaching the doorway of her bedroom, to see Inna laying on her bed.

"Minsk..." She slowly began to speak, walking over to join her little sister, nudging her over and sitting down on the edge of her bed. "...I think we should talk..." The Muscovite attempted to begin the conversation with an explanation, as she was unsure of her sibling's motives for their lapse in relations, and was therefore not confident about approaching the subject.

Frowning, Minsk waited until it became apparent that her sister had finished speaking for now, and was anticipating a response before she would continue.

Then she looked up at Moscow, truly puzzled. "Isn't that what we're doing now?" The mystified Belarusian child enquired.

"Or is there something else you want to talk about? We can always talk about anything, Big Sister!" She continued obliviously.

Then an awful thought occurred to her. Was Nastasya... _cross_ with her?

Biting her lip nervously, she looked down again. "Unless...Unless you're still mad about when I got you in the butt with that snowball..." She muttered.

In spite of her icy attitude, and the fact she was attempting to be serious, the elder woman couldn't help but crack a small smile. "Minsk...no. I'm not cross about that. In fact...It was a good shot." She replied as she tried to straighten her face again. But it was impossible. She couldn't continue with a serious conversation now Minsk had put that into her head.

But it didn't matter. She could get closer to her sibling later.

For now? Moscow glanced at the younger girl laying, laughing, beside her.

 _This was good enough._


	15. Questions About The New Generation

The two young Female Cities lay there together for quite some time that afternoon, just enjoying each other's company. It was almost like old times, Moscow reflected as she watched her younger sibling swinging her legs out behind her, kicking at thin air, and staring quite contentedly off into empty space, probably daydreaming.

Minsk was wrapped up in her elder sister's large purple coat, which she had picked up when Nastasya had discarded it and refused to remove it, instead, she was treating it as a blanket. She was also, not daydreaming as she appeared to be at her sister's first glance, but wrapped up in some thoughts of her own.

Inna Ivanovna Braginskaya, or Inna Arlovskaya, as she preferred to be called, in hope of avoiding association with her father, had a surprisingly grown-up outlook on the World, considering her young physical age. It rarely showed, except in her private thought process. That particular afternoon, she had become a little thoughtful, carefully mulling over various hypothetical situations in her mind.

"Big Sister...?" She muttered after a long while, glancing up at the Muscovite questioningly.

The older girl blinked her deep indigo eyes at her sibling curiously. "Hm...Da?" She answered, wondering what her sister was enquiring about this time.

"How do you think things would be if I was older than you? Y'know...Like our Cities _actually_ are." Inna asked, still staring off, her big, soft, lilac eyes fixed on the far wall as she mused over the idea.

Moscow fell silent as she considered the proposition. Technically, Minsk was the older city, but hadn't been a capital for most of that time, and so was the younger child. It was a confusing thought...

"I don't know...Just the same, I guess, but the other way around..." She shrugged. Secretly, she wondered if an older Inna would be better at sticking with her, or if Minsk would get tired of her younger self's probable clingy behaviour. Overall, she decided the latter option was most likely, and that it was better, being born first.

However, the Russian girl guessed that her young sister's reasoning was not as philosophical as it seemed. "Are you just fed up with being the youngest...? Do you want to grow up...?" She prodded at her, slightly worriedly, as she didn't want her 'Dear Little Sister' to grow up too fast.

Minsk nodded. "Dy! Me being young is Papa's favourite excuse not to let me do anything..." She huffed, pouting. "Anyway, having a little sibling could be interesting, right?"

 _"You're_ an interesting sibling, but we can't just get another one out of nowhere, just because you want to be older." The oldest woman muttered in response.

"Why not?!" The Belarusian insistently responded in a whiny tone.

Moscow sighed. "Because you _can't._ That's not how it _works._ Anyway, you'd have to talk to Mama and Papa." She struggled to explain, her pale face flushing light pink at the concept of having to have this 'Talk' with her 'Sestra'.

"Why? Do only they know? Surely _you_ know where _I_ came from?" The child persisted with her questions.

Turning her head to hide the fact her cheeks were almost as red as her little sister's dress by now, Nastasya muttered softly. "...Not exactly, it's an adult thing..."

Inna pouted. "That's a stupid excuse, Big Sister, and it isn't fair! If you won't tell me, I'll figure it out and make my _own_ little sibling!" She argumentatively answered.

The platinum-haired teenager sighed deeply, fiddling with one sleek, pale golden strand, a habit she only showed when she was uncomfortable.

She didn't want to fall out and further the rift between her and her sister, but at the same time, she was still easily embarrassed by such 'Talks'. _Why_ weren't her parents here to bail her out? On second thoughts, perhaps that was a bad idea. Her father had been too embarrassed to tell her anything, and when he had told her to ask her mother, Belarus's version was blunt, to the point and a little vulgar.

Minsk didn't need that, so maybe this way _was_ better, Moscow mused. It was still embarrassing though, and she was struggling to find the best words for her explanations.

"Well, are you going to tell me or not?!" Her Belarusian sibling snapped fiercely, interrupting her thoughts.

"Hm...Da..." She reluctantly mumbled.

Meanwhile, as Nastasya Ivanovna Braginskaya embarked on a painfully awkward explanation, her mother, Natalya, and Inna seemed to be sharing a train of thought, perhaps through some odd kind of Capital City-Nation bond. In a restaurant in Minsk, where the two Nations had gone on a date, Belarus was staring intently across the table at Russia in a way that was beginning to unnerve him.

"Brother..." She began slowly and meaningfully, though her face and tone were completely deadpan.

"Da...?" The Russian man answered, albeit nervously. He couldn't tell want she was thinking, as her face betrayed no emotion, but she clearly had an idea. Natalya with an idea could be terrifying. She had ways of getting what she wanted that were partly impressive and partly intimidating.

"Do you think it would be possible to have another baby...?" She asked curiously, leaning forward across the table as she waited for his response.

Ivan paused to think about it. It was difficult to say since so few Nations had children that information was hard to gather. Still, if it was possible...He did love his children, and it would probably make Natalya very happy.

"Da, maybe." He answered at length. "Why do you ask?"

"Well, you've had other Capitals in the past. As have I. It would be nice to have more children." Just as Ivan started to think that perhaps that was a good point, and maybe they _should_ try for another baby, he noticed a certain light in Belarus's eye. That _light_. The scary one that came on when she not only had an idea but was beginning to develop it and get carried away. It was the look that he had privately dubbed the 'Marry Me' look.

"We could make and raise an army, and use them to unite the World, and make everyone one with you!" The Belarusian Republic began to rant, a frightening smile spreading across her face as Ivan quietly sighed and sunk onto the table. That was date night ruined. Still, perhaps this rant would get her crazy idea out of her system.

Russia did, eventually, succeed in getting his wife to calm down, but only _after_ she had scared away half the staff of the restaurant, five tables of other customers, and a confused delivery driver bringing more food supplies.

The rant seemed to have cleared out the looney, over-the-top idea, but she hung on to the thought of trying to have another child.

Minsk, however, after Moscow's delicate, lengthy attempt at an explanation, pulled a face. "Ew..."

But however 'Ew' Inna Ivanovna Braginskaya believed the idea of her parents trying to have another baby, her mother and father, the Nations of Belarus and Russia, had begun to harbour hopes of gaining a third child, now that their two daughters, The Cities of Moscow and Minsk, were growing up.

Minsk's sixth birthday had passed during the months while they were trying, and Moscow would soon be sixteen. But, in between her daughters birthday's fell 25th August, Belarus's birthday, and she received a late birthday surprise. It was on the 2nd September, only a week after her birthday, that she discovered she was pregnant.

The nerves of her previous pregnancies didn't return for Natalya Rusovna Braginskaya, as the Belarusian Republic was getting used to child-bearing, and her daughters had proved to her that her former fears were silly. So instead, she was incredibly excited, running to tell her Big Brother and Beloved Husband, Ivan Rusovich Braginsky, the representation of the Russian Federation.

Ivan wasn't so lucky concerning the worries of parenthood, his old paranoia about losing his wife and unborn child did not return, but he began to worry that his daughters would dislike or resent their new sibling, as Minsk did with him.

His concerns were, unbeknownst to him, quite needless. Inna may have gone off her food a little after hearing her sister explain where babies came from, but she still relished the idea of no longer being the youngest. Every year, around her birthday, everything she did worked under the misconception that with an extra year of age would come independence.

As for Nastasya, Representation of Moscow City, she was beginning to miss the days when her 'Baby Sister' really _was_ her baby sister, and so, when the Nations broke their news to their family, both children reacted with enthusiasm and excitement.

Their elder sister, Iryna Rusivna Chernenka, Personification of Ukraine, was paying a visit, as requested by her younger brother, Russia, at the time. She, by now, was used to her sibling's relationship, though to begin with she had had her doubts. She just smiled and congratulated them as per usual. Having another niece or nephew _could_ be fun, and if her siblings were happy, she saw no reason to make things difficult. Their family had had enough squabbles and troubles as it was, in its time, and she had no wish to start another one.

Everything was seemingly well, but the Russian Male could not relax, having to be with his wife almost every minute, clinging to her, especially as her pregnancy progressed into its later stages.

The Belarusian lady revelled in her brother's love and took comfort in it through her various pregnancy pains, up to and including the pains that surprised the cuddling couple on their couch, on the evening of 27 May 2014. Contractions.

Again, Ivan began to panic and hurried his younger sister to their closest hospital, calling Ukraine to take care of his daughters and look after them in the waiting room, while he went with Natalya, keeping a hold on her hand in hopes of soothing her.

After several hours of awkwardly listening to screams, some from Natalya, some from Ivan as the Belarusian crushed his fingers in some kind of futile attempt to make her pain fade, and eventually some from the newborn baby, Iryna was finally told she could take her nieces in to see their parents and their new sibling.

Her new nephew, she soon discovered. Ilya Ivanovich Braginsky, the new Personification of Saint Petersburg, had been born at last and was snoozing in the arms of his proud but tired mother, beside his grinning father.

The Ukrainian woman glanced at the faces of her siblings, both ever-proud parents, then looked to her young nieces, who were staring at their new brother with mixed expressions of curiosity and excitement, and finally to the tiny child's small strands of platinum hair and his gently fluttering eyelashes as he peacefully slumbered, blissfully unaware of all the interest being taken in his very existence.

The World was changing, and they were a part of it. So many years had passed, with nothing changing, and then all of a sudden, in under two decades, almost everything around her had transformed.

First with her siblings' marriage, now seventeen years ago, and then Moscow, who had grown up so much over the sixteen Human years she had lived through. In later years, there was Minsk, already very nearly grown up, at least according to her, and now this tiny baby, Saint Petersburg, had joined them.

Her family was bringing a new generation into the World and raising them. And perhaps, now the Nations were all older, others would follow their example. _Then_ the World really _would_ change.

She had expected many, many things, great, terrible, or just plain obscure, from Vanya and Natasha, but Irunya had never, _ever_ expected her little siblings to be at the centre of this change. The bringing about of a new generation, and possibly a new era.

What could she expect next? From her siblings? Her nieces and nephew? The World in general?

Ukraine had no idea.

 _What could the World expect from this new generation...? Only the passage of more time would truly answer that question, she supposed..._


	16. Unexpected Visits

Time continued to pass, in a way that, to the Personification of Ukraine, was surprisingly normal, considering the huge and rapid changes that the Ukrainian woman, Iryna Rusivna Chernenka, had borne witness to recently. But the changes seemed to go unnoticed to the parts of the World outside a certain house on the outskirts of Moscow.

Her sibling's family home, where she was staying for a while, while her sister, Natalya Rusovna Braginskaya, recovered from the birth of her new baby son. Outside the house, away from her family, the World just continued normally, but within the house, everything buzzed with activity.

Ivan Rusovich Braginsky, her brother and Natalya's husband, fussed incessantly about Natalya's health, and his children disliking him. The Belarusian woman insisted fiercely from her bed that she was fine, and was only staying under 'bed-rest' to keep Iryna from getting her 'damn nagging Doctor' on at her again.

Iryna, meanwhile, tried to keep things in order for her dear but very strange siblings, with their eldest daughter, Nastasya Ivanovna Braginskaya, 'trying to help'. Unfortunately, it was mostly Iryna working, since Nastasya, whose very protective parents somewhat spoilt her, had only vaguest ideas about anything practical. At least, the Ukrainian thought to herself with a sigh as she shooed the 'helpful' Russian girl out of the kitchen so she could tidy up in peace, she had experience from raising her siblings.

It wasn't easy, though. The children seemed to have no clue how to cope without their parents, who were absorbed in their own little World, typical of the somewhat obsessive couple. To make things harder, whenever she left the baby for even a few minutes, Inna, Nastasya's six-year-old sister, would go over to 'investigate' her baby brother, usually by poking him until he cried, then jumping back in shock at his reaction.

The easiest way to get anything done was to shoo the older children, Moscow and Minsk, out of the house to play, leave her siblings upstairs to good-naturedly bother one another, and try to get the infant Saint Petersburg to sleep for a while. Then she could try to get her family's house in order, at least a little bit more so than it was now before they all returned and accidentally or spitefully caused her more trouble. Things had definitely quietened now when she had shooed Nastasya away, so perhaps now, Iryna hoped, she could get on with more important stuff.

The reason for the Ukrainian's newfound, and long-awaited, peace and quiet, was Moscow finally taking a hint and deciding that she and Minsk should go out again, like they had for the last few days, whenever Ukraine had needed them out of the house. So, she had dutifully dragged her sister out of the house and, grabbing her hand, began to march her along.

Inna blinked up at her big sister in confusion. Everything seemed so confusing at the moment. The new sibling she had been so curious about, her usually distant Aunt arriving, and now the normally secluded Muscovite seemed to want to go out every single day. It was very strange to her, and she frowned. "Where are we going?" She asked, bewildered.

Nastasya paused. She hadn't given that much thought, just trying to help her aunt by dragging her sister out of the house as fast as possible. "...How about a walk in the woods?" She suggested, fairly confident that she could at least find her way around the woods, since they were fairly close to their home, and she'd been there before. With any luck, the change of scenery would also keep Inna distracted for a while.

Fortunately for her, her little sister wasn't too difficult to convince. The younger girl considered it for a couple of minutes then cheerfully chirped, "Okay!" And tugged on her arm, already keen to go.

Seeing no reason to delay their trip any further, Moscow followed, albeit at a slower and less enthusiastic pace. To be honest, while it was 'helping' her family, she disliked people and the outside world, so walking up and down the local streets every single day was getting tiresome. Still, she supposed, perking up a little, the woods would be more peaceful.

The two sisters walked quietly for a while, entering the wooded area, away from noise, people, and other distractions. Then Inna spoke up again. "Why aren't we allowed to stay at home anymore? Has Auntie Irunya replaced us?" She blinked up at her elder sibling with such innocent confusion that the normally stoic woman had difficulty not laughing a little.

"She's just helping with the house and the baby until Mama's better." She explained. "But we're in the way, a little." She mostly considered that it was her little sister who got in the way, but it would be mean to say so, and from Ukraine's reaction to her...'help', it probably wasn't completely true.

Glancing at the Belarusian child, she could see her mulling over this. Eventually, Minsk contented herself with a soft "Oh..." Of acceptance in reply, and silence fell again as they walked deeper into the woods.

This time, it was Moscow who spoke again first, recalling an old conversation with her sister. "So...Do you like having a little brother?" She asked.

Her sister paused for thought, then said at last, "A bit. But he doesn't _do_ anything. And he looks like Papa."

The older girl had to bite back an amused smile again. "He can't help his genetics. And no one does much at that age. _You_ didn't." She answered by way of explanation, earning another sort of understanding nod before the siblings ended up returning to companionable peace and quiet again.

That was until the two young Female's heard a sharp _snap!_ Of a twig behind them, followed by some shouting in a language neither of them understood. They turned to one another, Minsk's eyes wide and fearful, Moscow's narrowed in suspicion. The elder City looked back over her shoulder but was only able to make out the outline of a man, running towards them waving...something that he was holding in his hand.

She shuddered, slightly afraid since she didn't have a weapon or her parents to protect her, but she hurriedly pulled herself together, aware that she had to be strong for Minsk and keep her little sister safe. That made her feel vaguely heroic, it was a chance to become closer to her sibling by demonstrating her love and strength. Besides, she was a personified City, she could probably overpower an ordinary Human.

Turning back to her sister with that in mind, Nastasya put a hand on Inna's shoulder. "Stay here. I'm going..."

"What?! Where?" The child gasped, shocked.

"Just to...See what he wants..." She tried to explain, hoping she didn't sound nervous.

"He wants blood!" The somewhat dramatic little girl wailed. "If we have to fight him, let me go! I have one of Mama's knives!" She added fiercely.

The Muscovite shook her head, mildly amused. "He might not...Just have your knife ready and...Stay. Here." She reiterated, in low and slightly sharp tone, then turned and striding towards the running man, her legs slightly shaky, but hopefully not enough for either her little sister or the man to notice.

"Privet..." She called out tentatively as she approached him.

He stopped running and skidded to a halt in front of her, looking slightly relieved that she'd turned back, but a little confused. He opened his mouth, seemingly searching for the words to respond to her, and she took the opportunity to examine him more closely.

He was a couple of inches taller than she was...Probably about 5'9, for a guess, but obviously older, with slight stubble and chin length dark blond hair. His blue eyes were watching her with a mixture of curious confusion and possible recognition as he considered what to say. She frowned, did she know him? Or did he _think_ he knew her?

Who exactly was this man, and more importantly, what the _Hell_ did he think he was doing running around in the usually quiet woods yelling at and terrorising young girls?

She was beginning to reconsider giving him a second chance and actually stopping to speak to him when he finally spoke up. "'Allo, Mademoiselle...I am sorry, I don't speak Russian, but I did not mean to alarm you..." He tried to explain, beginning in the language he had been speaking earlier, then switching to English when he realised that she didn't understand him either.

Nastasya was relieved in multiple ways. First things first, he didn't seem as dangerous or annoying as she had suspected, despite their strange way of meeting, and secondly, he had solved the language problem, guessing at a language they both spoke with relative ease and accuracy. "Right..." She nodded, finally making sense of the situation. "...What did you want, anyway?" She then enquired, still a little confused.

"Oh, I seem to be a little lost, could you point towards Moscow?" Was his reply.

Nodding at the mention of her City, she was beginning to give him directions when Minsk came running over, apparently fed up with waiting, and flung herself at Moscow, latching onto her leg protectively and clinging, her knife still in her hand and pointed towards the foreigner, who looked understandably startled.

"Inna, nyet!" The elder Slavic sister called out sharply, wrapping her arm around the younger girl's shoulder's and holding onto her arm, keeping her at bay. "He's just lost." She explained.

"Oh..." Lowering her weapon, the child nodded, then looked up curiously at the man. "Where were you going?" She asked innocently.

Still looking a little wary of the armed girl, he answered, "Moscow."

Minsk considered this. "We're not going _anywhere._ Just walking. That's strange, right?" She continued to make conversation with the bemused stranger.

"Oui...I mean, yes, I guess so..." He agreed, before turning to the older girl again. "If you are not going anywhere, then perhaps you could accompany me, Mademoiselle...I don't think I can find my way following those instructions..."

Moscow shrugged, rolling her eyes a little at Inna's way of talking about their walk. "Fine..." She agreed. "This way..." She began to walk in the direction they'd come from, with Minsk holding her left hand, and the man walking on her right side.

After a few minutes, the child spoke up again, making curious conversation, probably out of boredom. "Why are you going to Moscow?" She asked the Male they'd just met.

"My colleague lives there, and just had a baby..." He explained, holding up a card with 'Congratulations' written on it.

The response was a nod, then, "Nice...Our parents just had a baby too!"

Moscow sighed and rolled her eyes again at the unnecessary chatter, but the man just smiled. "Nice." He agreed, probably humouring the young girl, she thought to herself.

"Sorry about her..." The teenager muttered, unsure why her usually quiet little sister was chatting so much with this stranger, or why she felt so embarrassed by it, but trying to make sure he wasn't uncomfortable during their walk to the City.

He laughed, a little oddly, she thought to herself. "Don't be, Mademoiselle...It's nice to have a chat, don't you think?" He answered her, smiling.

"I suppose..." She shrugged again. Then, after a small pause, something occurred to her. "Then can I ask you something, too...?" She glanced over at him.

"Ask away!" He responded cheerfully.

"Why do you keep calling me that...'Mademoiselle'...Thing?" The girl asked curiously, stumbling slightly over the pronunciation of the foreign word.

"Simply because I do not have your name. It's polite to call a woman you don't know well 'Miss' or 'Mrs', no? And I prefer to say it in my native language, French." The Frenchman explained to her, after a pause as he struggled to make sense of her butchered pronunciation of his language.

"Ah...Nastasya." She replied after another pause.

"Hm?" He raised an eyebrow curiously, and her younger sister chimed in again before she could say anything by way of explanation.

"Her name's Nastasya, and I'm Inna. Who are you?" She both answered and questioned at the same time.

He gave a friendly wink to the young child and then took Moscow's other hand, kissing the back of her gloved knuckles gently, causing the Russian girl to blush deeply and look away, unused to physical affection from anyone outside of her family, let alone relative strangers. "Francis Bonnefoy is my name, Mesdemoiselles, It's a pleasure to meet you both." He let go of her hand again and smiled warmly at the two girls.

Lowering her hand as he released her, the Russian girl looked down, while her sister smiled slightly at the Frenchman. Then the three continued to walk in silence until Moscow realised they were getting close to the City. "Nearly there." She told Francis.

He hurriedly hunted in his pocket and pulled out a scrap of paper with an address scrawled on it. "Would you help me find this place, S'il Vous plait?" He enquired, showing it to the older girl. This time, she didn't even react to his use of words she didn't understand or pay her sister's tugs on her arm any heed, staring at the paper in surprise.

At length, Nastasya spoke. "That's our house." She blinked.

Francis turned to stare at the two young girls, looking a little shocked and confused for a few minutes, before everything began to fall into place. "Mon Dieu...Of course!" He exclaimed. "That is why you look so familiar!" He thought back to the pictures he'd seen of Russia's daughters at some of the Allies previous meetings. One out of focus Polaroid of one-year-old Moscow that the overly proud father Ivan had passed around, and another fuzzy snap on Alfred's phone of baby Minsk after the American had drawn the short straw last time and had to take the 'lovely' Slavic family their 'congratulations' card from the Allies. Not much to go on, but of course, they also resembled their parents somewhat, which helped.

The two girls, unaware of all of Francis's thoughts, looked at each other in confusion, then blinked back at the Frenchman, trying to piece things together. They were somewhat sheltered by their overprotective parents and seldom had the 'pleasure' of meeting any other Nations, though they were aware of their existence.

Eventually, Minsk remembered that he'd mentioned his colleague, which was what their parents referred to the people they had to go to meetings with as. "Oh...Are you one of the people Papa goes to see when he abandons us?" She asked the slightly taken aback French Nation.

Moscow hurriedly spoke up. "She means his colleagues." She explained, to avoid alarming him further.

"Ah, oui...Yes, I am France." He replied, visibly relieved by her intervention, and slightly disturbed by Minsk's wording. Still, he hadn't been expecting the children of Belarus and Russia to be _normal._

"...I guess we should go home, then..." Nastasya said, after a small, silent pause. "I'm not sure Auntie Irunya will be happy that we are early though..." She added, musing aloud to herself.

"Ohonhonhon...I don't think your lovely Aunt Ukraine will mind my presence!" Francis laughed, winking at the surprised Slavic sisters.

The Russian girl shrugged and began walking away again, pulling her young sister after her, causing France to stop fooling around and hurry after them as they headed back in the direction of their house.


	17. Colleagues And Children

The Republic of Ukraine jumped at the sound of somebody knocking on the door. She had persuaded her baby nephew to sleep and got her nieces out of the house, so she wasn't expecting a sudden interruption so soon.

And, just _typically_ , she thought to herself, with a tone of slight bitterness, it had woken up the baby, who began to scream his head off. Which, in turn, led to more noise as her little brother came running down the stairs, completely oblivious to the fact that the _thump, thump, thump_ sound of him running was probably bothering his precious son more than the original knocking.

She sighed and headed to the door as Ivan scooped up the baby. The Ukrainian woman yanked open the door, not really in the mood for visitors, and was greeted by Minsk, who swung off Moscow's arm and launched herself into her aunt, demanding attention, an ever-emotionless Moscow, and the unexpected guest. France. Who then decided it was a good idea to flirt with her.

Iryna hugged her littlest niece, partly to shut her up and partly because the way this day was going, she felt like she needed a hug. She then ushered the Muscovite and the Frenchman inside, greeting them as politely as she could, but dodging Francis's typical, casual flirting. With Minsk clinging to her, she retreated up the stairs as soon as the 'visitors' were inside.

It's Vanya's house, she thought, so it's Vanya's problem. Besides, _someone_ has to 'look after' Natalya. The normally caring eldest sister wouldn't normally leave her brother to handle it all alone, but he had sort of _dragged_ her into taking care of his mess multiple times, usually by guilt-tripping her. Plus, she _did_ want to spend some time with her little sister, who she hadn't really seen since the baby was born.

To be honest, Russia didn't even notice her sudden absence. He looked up from trying to soothe his baby boy, only to notice that his eldest daughter and one of his friends, or at least someone he considered to be one of his friends had appeared. He grinned and blew a kiss, as a way of greeting them.

Francis raised an eyebrow and was tempted to reply with, 'Ohonhonhon', or some other jovially flirtatious remark as per usual, but recalled that teasing Ivan probably wasn't a good thing, and that there were children present, although the latter may have been an excuse to justify his actions to himself without making himself, a decidedly proud individual, seem like a coward.

Instead, he merely handed his colleague the card, which prompted the Russian man to pass his infant son to his teenage daughter and respond by hugging the Frenchman, who looked a little concerned and pained at the sudden tight embrace, but tolerated it until Ivan finally dropped him and stepped away slightly, still grinning cheerfully. "That's very kind, da? Now, I assume you've come to meet my lovely children?" He suggested, gesturing to where Moscow was awkwardly holding her baby brother.

"Uh, oui...I'd love to." Francis nodded, slightly unconvincingly as he glanced over at them. He soon returned to his usual self, however, adding a sly wink in Moscow's and commenting, "Although, I've already met the lovely lady over there and her cute little sister."

"Da, I noticed that." Russia nodded, though he gave France a slight glare as he suspected the winking may be flirting. With _his_ daughter, which he certainly didn't approve of. "Minsk is an interesting little girl...And my Moscow is _my_ lovely little daughter." He reaffirmed, making the Frenchman abruptly cut off his flirting.

Once he was sure that his ally wasn't attempting to hit on his daughter, or that if he was, he now knew not to, Ivan slung his arm over the other Male's shoulders and steered him over to the two of his children who were present, introducing his son, who had finally stopped squealing, and encouraging the Frenchman to coo over the baby for a while.

Francis obliged with a cheeriness that may or may not have been faked out of intimidation, complimenting the Slavic man and his family, a normal habit of the smooth French Male, with whom it was difficult to say if the compliments were sincere, playful flirting, or some combination of the two.

However, since he'd dutifully delivered the card, and felt as though he'd stayed and been pleasant too long for comfort given the reputation of the couple whose home he was currently occupying, he soon excused himself with an alibi of a 'date' with someone whom he refused to name, merely answering the Russian's questions with 'Ohonhonhon, it's a secret!'

He hurried off, with Ivan 'seeing him to the door' and Nastasya, still carrying a now sleeping St. Petersburg, trailing after the two men with an expressionless face. As the door shut behind France, the Russian Nation turned back to his children with a big smile. "See, the whole World is interested in us! Maybe I should start taking you along to meetings..." He suggested, musing it over.

The Muscovite shrugged, as usual, she seemed fairly disinterested. "So long as your colleagues don't _all_ try that weird kissing my hand thing...I don't like it..." She scowled slightly.

Russia did too, a dark aura materialising when he realised that her sentence implied that his 'colleague' Francis had, indeed, been flirting with his daughter, behind his back, no less, and had kissed her. He was a decidedly overprotective father who still thought of his Capital City and eldest daughter as his sweet little six-year-old princess, despite the fact she was sixteen and very nearly an adult.

"On second thoughts, I don't think they need to meet _my_ Dear Little Ones just yet. And as for the kissing thing... _Kol Kol Kol..._ Don't worry about that at all, Petal. Papa will have... _words_ with Francis about that next time we see him, da?" He muttered, slipping his arm protectively around her and guiding her up the stairs to be with their other relatives. And possibly to inform Natalya, who was equally, if not _more,_ possessive of their 'babies', about France's 'harmless flirting'.

Once the three Russians entered the bedroom, they were greeted by Iryna, who was sat in a chair at the side of the bed with Inna on her lap, and Natalya, who was laying on the bed looking fed up as her sister chattered away, trying to cheer her up. The Belarusian woman sat up slightly and smiled as she saw her husband and other two children.

As Nastasya placed her sleeping brother in his crib at the end of the bed, the married couple began a conversation. "Siastra says France came. What did he want?" Natalya had begun to question Ivan.

"Hm...Oh, da! He brought us this!" He produced the card and leaned over Iryna to place it on top of a set of bedside drawers, among the various others that had arrived by mail from other Nations who hadn't wanted to visit the eccentric family or political 'friends' of theirs who had been too 'busy' to visit.

Belarus glanced at the card. "Hm, that was nice of him." She commented. "Now," She demanded, impatiently interrogating him, "What else have I missed while Big Sister has had me cooped up in here?"

Ivan laughed slightly nervously as his elder sister glanced disapprovingly at Natalya from where she was playing with Minsk. "Nyet, not much of importance." He looked across at Moscow. "Francis was being a flirt, but I will take care of that, da?"

Ukraine interrupted before her siblings planned a murder of an ally just for his nature. "He was probably just joking around, Vanya. He always does that." She pointed out, soothing the irritated Slavic couple.

"Hm...So apart from that, all I have missed is you?" The Belarusian suggested, looking up at her brother, who smiled and sat down on the bed beside her, pulling her into a hug. "Aw, that's very sweet, da, Nata? But you don't have to miss any of us. We're right here."

Natalya looked around her bedroom, casting her deep blue eyes over her baby son, her teenage daughter, her motherly elder sister, her Capital City, and finally rested them on her husband and brother. He was right. Her whole family, everyone she loved, was right there with her.

For once, they were all happy, together. _Perfectly_ _happy,_ The Nation of Belarus thought to herself.

The Eastern Slavic family managed to while away the entire afternoon up there, cheerfully chatting to one another about anything and everything, before eating a late dinner and retiring to their respective beds, content after a day well spent.

Natalya sighed and gave a slight smile as she settled down to sleep. _Maybe dreams did come true, after all._


	18. Nightmares And Holidays

It would appear that nightmares could come true, too. For when Natalya Rusovna Braginskaya eventually awoke, crashing sharply to consciousness as though she knew there was a problem, she was alone in the darkness, no longer able to feel the warmth of her husband's body close to her, nor hear the rhythm of his breathing and snoring. This had long been her worst fear... _Losing him._

She sat up and groped in the dark for one of the knives she kept as weapons. Finding one on the bedside table, she rose and switched on the light, inspecting the room for signs of trouble. _Nothing,_ The Belarusian noted, relaxing slightly. It was possible, just _possible,_ that she was over-reacting, and for once her Beloved Big Brother had merely risen before her.

Her narrowed indigo eyes fell on the cradle in her corner, checking for any other problems. Her baby son slept peacefully, unaffected by the Russian man's absence. She checked the bedroom door. It was slightly ajar, so she pushed it all the way open and tiptoed out. "Big Brother...?" She whispered into the dark corridor outside. There was no response, and she could see no other lights on upstairs. Her fears that something bad may have happened to Ivan returned, and she gripped the handle of her weapon tightly as she turned and began to sneak down the stairs.

When she entered the living room, she flicked on the light and glared around the room at her familiar surroundings, looking somewhat accusing. There was a note lying on the table. Her mind racing ahead with a ton of irrational, partly paranoia generated ideas of what could have happened. Had her Darling Russia been _kidnapped?_ Was he being _held hostage? Ransomed?_

For a brief few moments, Natalya got carried away and imagined herself rescuing him, and helping him to take revenge against the unknown aggressor in the scenario before she came to her senses.

That would _never_ happen to _her_ Ivan, because he was not stupid or weak enough to be taken prisoner by any random moron, and she would never _allow_ it to happen, having sworn to always protect him. She placed her weapon on the table and unfolded the note, casting her gaze over it.

* * *

 _Dearest Nata,_

 _Don't worry about a thing, I'm just taking care of some business in Paris! I would have let you know sooner, but I didn't want to interrupt our...lovely conversations about far more important topics._

 _No need to upset Big Sister or the children, either, Solnishko. I won't be gone for too long._

 _Love,_

 _Ivan_

 _XXX_

* * *

Comforted, Belarus relaxed. So she _had_ just been over-reacting, then. Although...She scowled at the note. No 'business' was a good enough reason for her and her Precious Russian to be parted. They were soul mates, and of course, she had not, did not, and _could never,_ feel right without him. No matter what this note of his said, she decided, she and her family were going to Paris, and there, they would track down her Brother if it killed her.

Besides, Natalya thought, they could probably all use a holiday.

So, once her sister awoke, she enlisted Ukraine's help in packing some things, though she didn't show her the note, and wasn't completely honest about the 'holiday'. And when the children were also awake, Moscow was tasked with taking care of and distracting her young siblings while her Mama and Auntie packed and arranged the trip properly.

It took the best part of the rest of the day, but once everything was packed and Natalya had pulled the right strings to get an emergency flight to Paris the next day, she began the task of tracking Ivan down.

Fortunately for her, although possibly _un_ fortunately for her Brother, she had taken the precaution of placing a GPS device in his coat pocket, because in Natalya's somewhat overly attached and questionably stable mind, that was a perfectly normal thing for a wife to do to her husband.

That little device made tracking him down simple, and once she discovered that her Big Brother seemed to be staying at Francis's house, the address of which she'd acquired by means known only to herself, she cancelled the hotel stay she'd booked. If France was prepared to keep her Big Brother away from her, then he should, and indeed would _have_ to, be prepared to deal with the consequences.

Meanwhile, blissfully unaware of the antics and the impending arrival of the Belarusian woman, plus the rest of her family, Russia and France were having a _very_ jolly time.

While Ivan had initially visited his French 'friend' to 'discuss' why Francis should really stop flirting with his various Female relations, he had also more or less accepted that Francis's flirting was pretty innocent, and was just another part of who he was. Since he knew it wouldn't stop, the conversation, which they had after every incident, was more or less a routine to discourage other flirts, and a handy excuse to visit someone he considered to be a good friend.

And Francis, while slightly intimidated by Ivan turning up at his house in the early hours of the morning and simultaneously seeming threatening and pleased to be there, had quickly learnt that the best approach was to nod, smile and offer the Russian some wine. Hence, the two Nations were sitting on France's balcony, rather drunkenly singing, oblivious to Natalya's tracking devices and holiday schemes.

That went some way to explain why they were both sprawled on the Frenchman's living room floor, sleeping off wine, a long night and in the Russian Male's case, jet lag, when the other members of the Slavic family finally knocked on the door. The two men groggily awoke, and since Ivan had a higher alcohol tolerance and was more accustomed to the accompanying hangovers, he left Francis to come to properly and stumbled in the direction of the door.

He wasn't entirely sure who or what he had expected to see, but it certainly _wasn't_ his grinning wife, followed by his tired and confused looking daughters, and dutifully caring elder sister, who was holding his baby son asleep in her arms.

He blinked a few times at them, before cautiously asking the question on his mind, "Ah...Not that it isn't lovely to see you, but why are you not at home?"

The Belarusian woman just stepped closer, hugging him tightly as she answered, "Because I missed you too much!"

"Aw, that's sweet, Bela-Bela..." Russia smiled, gently planting a kiss on his wife's lips before continuing, "But you did get my note, da?"

"Mhm, but there is no excuse for us to be apart." Natalya insisted. "Besides, now that I _am_ better," She paused to glare at the elder sister who had made her follow the Doctor's instructions to 'rest' for so long, "I thought we could all use a break."

Her Brother had learnt the long and difficult way that there was no point in arguing with Belarus. "Da, I guess you're right. So where are we all staying?" He asked, also aware that Natalya would have already planned _everything._

A slightly out of sorts France finally staggered up to see who was at the door just in time to witness her smirk and hear her firmly declare, _"Right here!"_

The Russian man grinned broadly. "Oh, it would make sense to stay with our friend, da? So long as that is okay." He turned to the bewildered Frenchman questioningly.

Natalya glared daggers over her Brother's shoulder at the other man until he nodded in agreement, and the family headed inside with all their luggage, looking for somewhere to put it down and take a rest after their long flight.

Fortunately, Francis had three spare rooms, enough for the married couple and their youngest child to share as they did at home, while Minsk and Moscow had a room together too, and Ukraine got her own room.

Their host had headed off to bed, to continue sleeping off his hangover, and the other Personifications also settled down to rest, with Belarus laying her head on Russia's chest, casually interrogating him about his French trip as he tried and failed to sleep, Saint Petersburg sleeping beside their bed, Ukraine dosing after being tired out by jet lag and her...lively family, and the two Slavic Capital City's stretched out on their bed, lazily making sporadic conversation as they waited for sleep to come.

They all needed rest...Tomorrow, their vacation would finally begin in earnest.


	19. Happy Holidays?

As usual, Belarus was the first Nation up to greet the day. The only person in the house to wake up first was her infant son, who was crying when she reached his crib. As she was rocking Ilya gently back to sleep, her husband, having been awoken by the baby's squeals, crawled quietly across the bed, sat up on the edge behind her and wrapped his arms tightly around her waist.

Natalya smiled slightly and relaxed in Ivan's grip. "Good morning, Brother Dear..." She whispered softly.

"Da, 'morning, Natasha." The Russian replied quietly, nuzzling up against her back. "Is the baby alright now?" He asked as their youngest child fell silent.

For a few, long minutes, the woman didn't move, nor did she answer him. She just stood, enjoying her husband's embrace, whilst staring down at the once again slumbering baby. Part of her was watching to make sure he was truly happy and resting again, the other part was just taking a moment with her baby.

Finally, Natalya nodded and reached forward, placing the little boy back in his cradle. "Da, I think so." She added in a murmur, not wanting to speak too loudly, lest she disturbed him again.

"He woke me up..." Ivan mumbled from behind her. She smirked, not even needing to look at his face to know he was pouting, his tone sounding very childish. "But that's okay. I forgive him because he is so cute...Like his Mama." Russia added, chuckling and tugging his wife backward onto the bed again.

The Belarusian gave a quiet, rare giggle of her own and nimbly twisted around in his arms until she was laying on his chest. Then she stroked his face, grinning at him. "Nyet...I think he gets it from his Papa." She countered.

The Male Nation sighed and shook his head. "You know when you smile, I cannot argue with you, da?" He said, hugging her closer, his arms still firmly around her waist.

Her response, a slightly daunting smirk, told him that the answer to that question was almost certainly 'Yes', but Russia wasn't given much time to ponder that, as the Female Nation who was laying on top of him very suddenly brought her lips down onto his and began to passionately kiss him.

Fortunately, after nearly eighteen years of marriage, he had become used to his younger sister's surprising and random displays of affection, and it only took him a few stunned seconds before he returned the kiss, gently stroking her lower back and running his fingers through her long, soft, flaxen locks as they made out.

When, at last, the devoted couple were forced to part lips by the need for oxygen, he decided that inviting though it sounded, they probably shouldn't spend all day canoodling in their guest room. "Nata...It's time to get up, da?" He suggested, hoping to persuade the Belarusian of that idea, too.

She frowned at his rhetorical question. "Why, Big Brother? Wouldn't you rather stay here...With me?" She clung on tightly, her frightening Yandere aura showing again as she gripped the scarf that he hadn't bothered to remove before bed, being, as he was, quite attached to it.

"I'd love to, Bela-Bela, but what about the children?" He retorted. After all the time they had spent together, Ivan had some idea of how best to handle Natalya, and though he _did_ feel a _little_ bad for using their children to manipulate his Dear Sister, it was both an accurate point, as the children would probably need or at least want to see their parents at some point during the day, and a successful ploy, as Natalya sighed and rolled off his chest.

"Fair enough, Darling. We will have to continue this later." She muttered in reply as she picked up her hairbrush and began to groom herself in preparation for the day.

While she ran the brush through her hair, the Russian man slipped out of bed and started to dress, pulling on his briefs and hunting in the closet for his clothes. Once he found them, he quickly dressed in his usual style, pausing only to adjust his scarf, before borrowing the hairbrush that Belarus had, at last, finished with to tidy his hair up with she changed from her nightdress to her regular clothes and sorted out her make-up.

Eventually, the couple were finally ready, and, after picking up their still slumbering son from his cradle, not wanting to leave him, they headed downstairs to greet the day. By this time, their French host had awoken, though he was a little hung over, and made his own way downstairs to his current position, seated at the living room table in his royal purple dressing gown with a cup of coffee, trying to wake himself up properly and look stylish at the same time.

Francis finished sipping his coffee and gave his guests a smile as the Nations greeted one another, before he disappeared into his kitchen to make crepes for breakfast, as he was feeling hungry, and when Belarus had mentioned breakfast, he had realised that he wasn't comfortable with the idea of the bad-tempered and often violent Belarusian in _his_ kitchen. He had only once made the mistake of letting someone else cook there before, with England, and he had only just got everything back to normal.

Meanwhile, Natalya stood and stared out of the window at the early morning sun, gently cradling her baby in her arms and resting her head on Ivan's shoulder. The room lapsed into blissful silence for a few minutes, before some clattering was heard from the vicinity of the stairs, and Inna came scurrying in, dragging a half-asleep Nastasya behind her.

"Mama!" Minsk said sharply, causing the elder Belarusian to abruptly look around.

"Dy? What is it?" The woman questioned her daughter.

"Sestra makes bear noises when she sleeps!" The child protested, gesturing accusingly over her own shoulder at her elder sister.

Rubbing her eyes, Moscow butted in in her own protest, "Little Sestra, I told you...I was just snoring." She complained in a tired mutter.

"Snoring?" The younger girl turned to look at her sister, before looking back at her mother, demanding clarification and an explanation. "But it's weird!"

"Nyet, Dear, it is natural. Almost everyone does it." Belarus mediated between her children.

 _"I_ don't." The child said firmly, folding her arms across her chest. "Just strange people like Sister...and Papa..." She mumbled, glaring slightly at the offended and irritated Muscovite, and her father, who was just trying to keep out of the argument between his daughters.

Fortunately, France distracted his guests from that particular little drama by re-entering with a lot of crepes and other French cuisine dishes, which Moscow examined and promptly refused to eat on the grounds that it was foreign. The insulted Frenchman, who took a great amount of pride in his gourmet cooking abilities, then led her to the dining table, sat her down, took his own seat right beside her, and dedicated several long minutes to attempting to persuade her to taste it with his 'natural charm'.

Eventually, much to his smug pleasure, she gave in and nibbled at it, conceding that it was 'decent', which her host accepted as at least a small victory for him, and left her alone to finish her breakfast while he tidied away the other plates.

Ukraine, who had by this time surfaced, decided to help the Frenchman out, seen as her family members had been slightly difficult towards him during their stay, and she felt as though they were all intruding in his home. While Iryna and Francis were cleaning everything up, Natalya turned back to her husband and began to plan their day together.

Since, she reasoned, this _was_ supposedly the 'country of romance', they, in her mind the most romantic and loved-up couple alive, _must_ tour the lovely sites. She pulled out some touristy leaflets advertising such sites for 'honeymooning sweethearts' from God only knew where, and as Ivan sweated nervously at her enthusiasm and their children looked on passively, Natalya babbled inanely about what a wonderful, perfect holiday this would be.

Eventually, the Russian Male decided that the best way to calm his slightly over attached wife down and keep out of the way of their still ever so slightly hungover host was to do as Natalya wished and go out. He stood up and took her hand. "Da, come on them, Bela-Bela!" He said with a cheerful smile as they walked towards the door, with the Belarusian still cradling their youngest son, who, for safety's sake, she slipped into his pram before leaving, and their daughters trailing behind them.

Once they were out of Francis's house, Belarus 'suggested' quite firmly that they should go and see the 'romantic' views, by going up the Eiffel Tower, which made Minsk mutter grumpily under her breath about wanting to go to Disneyland Paris instead.

Still, none of them were keen to argue with Natalya, so the family ended up at the top of the iconic tower, looking out across Paris, the acclaimed City of love. The Belarusian woman lent her head on her husband's shoulder and smiled as Ivan responded by dropping her hand and instead, slipping his arm around her slight waist, pulling her in closer. The Female Nation began to mutter about how perfect this was, with them being 'so very, very in love' and in the 'City of romance'.

Moscow sighed, feeling a little bored, and leant gently back on the railing, bouncing her sleeping younger brother's pram slightly as she waited and watched her parents whispering sweet nothings to one another and planting delicate kisses all over each other's faces. She might think that they were 'sweet' some of the time, but right now, when she was hoping to enjoy her very first holiday, it was a little dull.

"Maybe you had the right idea..." She muttered quietly to Minsk, looking down to gauge her middle sibling's reaction. Her sister wasn't there. Nastasya gasped and called out, in a desperate and frantic manner, "Inna? _Inna?...Mama, Papa!"_

A startled Ivan spun around, swinging Natalya around in his arms accidentally, in his rush to respond to his daughter. "What?!" He demanded to know, concerned about the sudden interruption.

 _"Inna's gone!"_

This caused Ivan to gasp too, and pretty much drop the Belarusian woman he'd been holding. Natalya frowned, both at the sudden and not very romantic release from her Beloved's embrace and at the news of her young daughter and Capital City's disappearance.

"We must find her, then!" She said firmly, trying to make that very clear before any panic could set it. The last thing she needed was an emotionally distraught Moscow or Russia to comfort and calm down. Besides, there really wasn't any need for panicking, since it wasn't just Ivan had a GPS tracker hidden on his person, courtesy of an overly protective and possessive Belarusian Republic. Unbeknownst to them, _all_ of her family members were 'under her surveillance'.

So she knew exactly what she needed to do, and set off determinedly, leading a confused and concerned Russian by his hand, with their eldest daughter pushing her brother's pram as she trailed after them.

"Where are we going, Natasha? To the police?" Ivan began to quiz her as she dragged him down the tower and through the streets of Paris.

"No, Brother Darling. They are probably useless, anyway...I can do a much better job. I just need to check something, which I can do," She paused as they had to elbow their way through a crowd, "Back at France's house."

"If you're sure..." The tone of Ivan's reply indicated that he _wasn't_ sure, but knew that he didn't have much of a choice, now that Natalya had decided what they were doing. Still confused, but hoping that she really did know how to find their daughter, he fell silent as she led the way.

Once they reached Francis's home, they burst in, interrupting the fairly peaceful scene of Ukraine quietly knitting in a corner of the living room while Francis sat at the table, reading a... _questionable_ magazine. Though both of the other Nations looked up, no one offered them any explanation. Natalya just strode over to Francis's computer to check the online reading from the device on she'd placed Minsk's dress.

Ivan stood nervously behind her. It wasn't that he didn't trust his wife, but...His daughter was missing, and he didn't know what the Belarusian was doing. He wasn't sure if he was prepared to gamble the fate of his child on the off chance that there was, indeed, some mysterious online _thing_ to find her. The Russian man concluded to himself that he trusted Natalya just fine, it was the technology involved and the unknown cause of Inna's disappearance that he didn't trust.

Meanwhile, Nastasya, looking bewildered, pushed the pram inside and flopped down on the couch, not knowing what was supposed to happen now and feeling utterly useless. Her little sister had vanished, and her parents were doing... _God alone knew what_. But they were, at least, doing something. She could think of _millions_ of horrible scenarios in which terrible things happened to Minsk simply because she wasn't there, and absolutely _zero_ things she could do about it.

Obviously, her mother was right, and they had to find Inna, but how she was supposed to that completely baffled her. Fortunately for the helpless young Muscovite, she didn't have to wait long for a solution to the family's current predicament.

Her mother, who had been bent over the nearby computer, engrossed in what she was doing, triumphantly jumped up. "Got her! It would appear she went to Disneyland anyway." She relayed the information, completely confusing Iryna and Francis, but comforting her other family members. At least, the two Russians thought with almost simultaneous sighs of relief, that should mean the younger Belarusian was _safe_. Troublesome, yes, but hopefully not kidnapped, or anything awful.

Ivan shook his head. "Why do Belarusians never listen to me...?" He muttered mock despairingly, though he was really just glad to know where his daughter was.

 _"I_ listen to you, Dearest." A certain Female Nation protested, looking affronted.

"Not when I wish to be alone." He pointed out as he took her hand again, both to show her he was merely joking around and to lead her to the door, ready to go and pick Minsk up, now that they knew her location.

Natalya took his hand and followed, though Nastasya stayed put, weary from that nerve-racking ordeal. "I listen when it's important." She heard her mother retort as her parents headed out again.

The Russian woman gave a small smile, despite her usually emotionless façade. Not particularly at the joking around of her parents, but just out of relief that she was not, in fact, responsible for some terrible fate befalling her young sister.

 _It was alright, after all._


	20. A Return To (Almost) Normal

The young personification of Minsk was loitering in a line to get onto one of Disneyland Paris's huge but, she insisted to herself, only slightly daunting rollercoasters, clutching her father's carefully purloined wallet and almost bouncing up and down with excitement, sure that now she'd oh-so sneakily slipped away from her family, she'd be able to have some _real_ fun and make it back before anyone noticed anything.

Then someone's arms curled around her waist and scooped the struggling child up into the air. She screamed, kicked and was about to resort to shouting swear words in the hope that either her opponent gave up or someone came to save her when she heard her father's voice trying to soothe her, "Inna, Inna, Inna...Calm down, It's me, da? I came to pick you up!" He told her, spinning her around to face him.

She was able to clearly see her slightly annoyed mother matter-of-factly informing confused and concerned strangers that they were, in fact, the _parents_ of the runaway girl, not her would-be kidnappers or something. And the obvious excitement on her father's face at finding her and just _holding_ her again...

It would appear she'd completely miscalculated with her 'clever' plans. She was still tempted to swear at the Russian as he placed her down gently on the ground, but took another look around and guessed she'd caused enough of a scene. "Oh...But how did you find me?" Was all she muttered when she finally dignified her Papa's greeting with a reply.

"Your Mama is a genius," Ivan answered with a jovial smile. Partially because he was just playing with her because he was so glad to see her again, and partially he wasn't one hundred percent sure how Natalya found out all the things she found out himself. Even if he was, Inna was probably too young to be told about the inner workings of Belarus's mind... _Much_ too young.

The younger Belarusian shrugged it off anyway, either accepting her father's cop-out excuse or not feeling like contesting it. She glanced slightly guiltily at the wallet she was holding and pouted, "I guess you want me to come back with you now..." She muttered.

"Da, we do. And I need that back, spasiba!" He told her firmly, plucking the wallet from her hands and tucking it back into his coat pocket, out of harms way before continuing back towards Francis's house, also allowing for him and his Dear Sister to each take a firm hold of one of her hands.

"Not fair...I only wanted to have some fun..." Inna grumbled as the family walked out of the amusement park.

"And we would have liked to know where you were, but apparently you can't have everything you want." Natalya chimed in, her tone quite sharp as she recalled the initial nerves when she'd known her little daughter was missing. _"Especially not without asking us first!"_ She added warningly, praying that Minsk would be discouraged from anymore independent 'adventures' during their vacation. Or at all.

Belarus's miniature lecture seemed to have the desired effect anyway, as her daughter scowled and whined, "Fineee...", reluctantly agreeing with her. She saw the relief in her husband's facial expression as their eyes met over the small child's head and smiled slightly. She knew how the doting Russian father hated having to scold his 'precious babies' and guessed that he was happy for her to defuse the situation instead. Especially since Inna wasn't always inclined to listen to him.

In response to her understanding smile, her husband beamed at her and leant over to plant butterfly kisses on her face as they meandered along, the sense of urgency draining back into the peaceful happiness of their family vacation again now that he wasn't worrying for Minsk's safety. He was just able to hold her hand and playfully kiss his Beloved Natasha at the same time.

The stroll back to France's home was a quiet but, given the circumstances, a very happy one. Certainly for Natalya and Ivan, who were peacefully enjoying their time together and the fact that they had their little girl back again. Inna just walked along, occasionally swinging off or pulling on their arms for attention or just random entertainment, her disappointment about the Disneyland incident swiftly forgotten in lieu of all the fuss about her.

And there was yet more fuss when they got into the house and she was almost immediately enveloped in a tight embrace by her elder sister. Nastasya didn't _do_ hugs very often, but right now she just pressed Inna close like she was never, _ever_ going to let go of her. Eventually, Minsk heard a muffled, "Are you _really_ alright, Sestra?!"

"Dy, of course I am!" She insisted, unfortunately into the Muscovite's ample chest because of the tight grip her Big Sister had on her. The Russian girl was forced to pull back silently, allowing some distance between them, though she still hugged her close. "What?" Nastasya questioned, frowning in confusion.

 _"I said_ I'm fine!" She reiterated in reply.

Nodding, her eldest sibling continued, "Oh good. Then _don't you ever do that again!"_ She implored sharply, clutching her close again. Not wanting to have another debate and vaguely aware that her sister and parents had been upset about what she had done, Inna merely mumbled, "Okay, okay I won't..."

That seemed to be good enough for her relatives because her sister released her again and the Slavic family's holiday settled down at long last. After their eventful morning, they enjoyed a peaceful afternoon relaxing at the host's home. Though Nastasya would hardly leave Inna alone, Ukraine and France were still completely baffled by the earlier goings-on and Natalya was protective to the point of glaring at a bird that flew 'too close' to her children when they were playing in Francis's garden.


	21. Tis The Season (Christmas Special)

After Minsk's little adventure, the family holiday continued remarkably peacefully. They spent a week in Paris, before flying home. Strangely, their lives continued without event and time, as always, ticked on, barely noticed.

Soon after the trip, Natalya firmly declared that she was fully recovered from the birth of her son and so Iryna returned to her home in Kiev, with her siblings bidding her a reluctant goodbye.

Various birthdays came and went. Minsk became six and had therefore begun to insist that she was 'nearly seven', while Moscow turned sixteen. Belarus and Ukraine celebrated their birthdays between the two. Then, before they knew it, Christmas came around again, and soon it was nearly another new year.

On New Year's Eve, Natalya and Ivan went for a walk, leaving Moscow to look after her siblings and stepping out into the cold evening air. As they walked Natalya began to reflect on their ever-changing lives and everything that had happened to them over the past year. She squeezed Ivan's hand gently to get his attention, and knowing his Dear Little Sister well, the Russian man glanced over at her.

The snowflakes settling in her long platinum locks twinkled like the Christmas lights still festooning the houses that surrounded them as they walked along the streets. Surprisingly festively, the Belarusian woman had replaced her usual hair ribbon with what appeared to be a length of tinsel, as scarlet as the new dress their elder sister had sent her as a gift, which she wore now. Despite noting her serious expression, Ivan couldn't help but smile.

"What is it, Natasha, Dear? Are you not feeling as lovely as you look?" He asked her softly as he clutched her hand and kept walking by her side, content to be enjoying the evening with her, in spite of the cold weather and the nearby sounds of drunken revellers partying a little _too_ hard, setting off fireworks and letting out loud cheers.

In reply, Natalya gave a small smile, "You're being very sweet, Big Brother Darling, but I am fine," She answered, before beginning to _really_ answer him, "I was just thinking...It has been so long since we were married."

Ivan nodded. That was true...Not long before their son was born, they had celebrated their eighteenth wedding anniversary. "Da, I know. But we're still happy together, da?" He answered her, smiling as he closed the small gap between them, letting go of her hand and wrapping his arm around her instead, pulling her close.

Snuggling into her Beloved's side, the Belarusian nodded, "Mhm, we are. It just seems like so long ago...Nastasya is nearly an adult now. Inna already thinks she is." She mumbled softly as they strolled along, staying close together.

Russia laughed, "Nata, that might be hard for _you_ to get your head around, but it doesn't seem that long ago since you were chasing me with a knife to _me."_

Natalya's cheeks flushed hotly as her 'Precious Brother' reminded her of the way she used to act before they were married, but still, she clung to him and gave him another small smile. If he was going to tease her, two could play that game..."That was just a sign of my devotion, Brother. But if you _must_ be like that, I can do it again..."

This time, the Male Nation's laughter was slightly more hesitant, almost nervous, at least until he spotted his wife's teasing smirk. "Bela! That's mean..." He pouted at her as they both struggled to contain their laughter, "You're as bad as Minsk!" He commented mock-accusingly as he recalled the most recent incident of their younger daughter picking up her mother's 'weapons' and threatening him with them.

And suddenly, almost unnervingly, the platinum-haired woman was deadly serious again. "No. She means it. I don't." She replied, no emotion in her voice whatsoever.

Ivan looked down forlornly. He didn't _want_ to even _consider_ that his daughter might _actually_ want to hurt him. Natalya had chased after him with a knife before. She had broken his door and had actually made him _cry_ , which rarely happened. But deep down, and especially now, he knew that his sister would _never really_ harm him, she was just very clingy. She adored him, the anger and hatred she showed were actually directed at anyone or anything that she saw as getting in the way or annoying him. Sometimes, that led to chaos and to his stuff getting broken, but he always knew that she loved him.

It was upsetting to consider that Inna might really despise him. He had hoped that it was just a childish thing she would grow out of, or a struggle to show proper emotions...But Natalya was good with Inna, so if she was sure that there were such issues going on, maybe it really _was_ true.

The Female Nation interrupted his thoughts there, snuggling closer to his side, wanting his attention again. "Do not get upset by her, Big Brother. She will change her mind when she is older, I was just pointing out that I have always loved you too much to want to hurt you. " She told him. "Now," She added, looking up as the snow began to fall heavier, "Let's head home, my Love."

The couple turned around and began to walk back towards their home, the flashing Christmas lights, bright stars and exploding fireworks as virtually their only lights now. Natalya clung tightly to her elder brother's side as he walked with her, his arm still resting on her shoulders, but Ivan slipped back into his thoughts and just absentmindedly strolled along with her.

After a few minutes of this, the Belarusian stopped, grabbing hold of him and pulling him to a stop too. "Brother!" She began sharply, making him snap away from the less than jolly thoughts on his mind. Ivan ground to a halt too, blinking at her in bewilderment. "Da, what this time, Sestra?" He questioned.

"Look up..." He followed the gaze of her indigo blue eyes and his own violet eyes fell on a crudely made kissing bow of Mistletoe that someone, most likely one of the drunken partygoers they had overheard earlier, had slung over a low branch of one of the bare trees.

"There. That's a sign from the powers that be that you need to stop worrying," He felt her hands resting on his shoulders and looked back down at her, slowly smiling again when he heard the soft _crunch_ of the snow under her feet as she stood on her tiptoes, inches from his face now, "And kiss me." She finished before she brought her lips to meet his.

Wrapping his arms around her slightly waist and kissing back, Ivan let go of his thoughts and smiled against her lips as another firework illuminated the happy lovers. He was confident that she would sort everything out. Natalya always steadfastly refused to let him endure his issues alone. But right now, he didn't feel like he had any issues, even with another year slipping away from them.

It was supposed to be the season to be jolly after all and, holding Belarus close in the moonlight, he felt like he had plenty of reasons to be _very_ jolly.


	22. New Year With Nations

2015 started with a bang. Specifically, a loud, desperate banging on the door of the Braginsky/Braginskaya family's home in the early hours of the morning. Natalya's indigo eyes flickered open and she muttered an unsavoury word, then slid out of Ivan's arms with a sigh. She stood up, pulled the covers back around her sleeping Brother and kissed his cheek softly, before grabbing her dressing gown and a knife, 'just in case'.

A hastily dressed, sleep-deprived and armed Belarusian yanking open the door and glowering at him wasn't the sight the hopelessly confused and very cold Personification of the USA had hoped to be seeing as he welcomed the New Year, but he didn't have a lot of choice. His New Year's party had gone horribly wrong after England had had more than three drinks and a wand at the same time.

Alfred didn't really know what had gone on, but somewhere along the lines, the drunken Brit had remembered the Revolutionary War and decided to curse him. Only drunk people aren't the best at curses and the worst thing that had happened was a little inconvenient teleportation from Washington D.C to Moscow.

Fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately given the look Natalya was giving him, he had ended up near the house of some of his colleagues. "Uh...Hey, Nat...Can I come in?" He asked her nervously, hoping that being here meant he might be alright.

The woman folded her arms. "Why?" She demanded to know, still glaring at him unhappily. Natalya might like getting up early sometimes, but she didn't appreciate being disturbed like this.

Alfred looked uncomfortable, as most people did when the formidable Belarusian was in a bad mood with them. Not least because his reasoning was a long story. "Well...Arthur kinda got a bit drunk and he had his wand with him, them he..."

Belarus cut him off with a sigh. England's magic seemed to cause a lot of odd little problems around the World, especially during the times of year when it was common to drink alcohol in 'celebration', and the Nations were pretty much all resigned to it by now. "Fine, but be quiet, because if you wake Big Brother or the children, I _will_ slice your throat while you sleep." She told him firmly.

The American shuddered slightly but hurried inside anyway. As it happened, Ivan was already awake, having noticed Natalya's absence, and was just coming down the stairs as the other Male Nation entered. He smiled at Alfred in the way reserved for people he didn't actually like that much and looked over at his wife as she came back inside. "Why is he in here?" He asked curiously.

"England's magic." The other two Nations responded simultaneously. The Russian rolled his eyes. He knew only too well how irritating Arthur could be with his black magic sometimes, having had many frustrating interruptions when the Brit had decided to summon something and got it wrong somehow.

"I see...Well, England is a _very_ silly magician, _da?"_ The half-asleep Nation of Russia muttered darkly, receiving nods from the others before continuing, "Amerika, you can stay in the guest room tonight, da? And Bela-Bela...Come back to bed, please!" He added, whining slightly as he asked for his Little Sister's company.

"Mhm, Of course, Brother Darling, just one moment..." Natalya agreed, first showing Alfred upstairs to their guest room and reiterating that he mustn't be a disturbance, or in the less-than-polite Female Nation's own words 'A big fat pain in the ass'. Then she firmly shut the door and left the American man to settle down for a rest, at last, his blankets wrapped around him in an attempt to warm up.

Meanwhile, she hurried back to her Beloved Russia's side, discarding her dressing gown, placing down her weapon and curling up in bed again, drifting off for a few hours more...

However, it seemed there was very little peace for them, as soon another knock at the door disturbed their slumber. This one was accompanied by someone loudly and tunelessly singing, while someone else hissed at them to keep the noise down and 'sort this mess out'. A quick check, via Ivan persuading the irate Belarus to stay unarmed and safely in bed before answering the door himself, revealed that funnily enough, Alfred had not, after his reception, wanted to stay until the next available flight back to Washington D.C.

Instead, he had sent a desperate text message to his brother, Canada, who had found the still not entirely sober England and convinced him, after a lot of bickering and unpleasant drunkenness on Arthur's part, to teleport them to Russia too and pick up Alfred. The Russian man declared that he had absolutely no problem with this, so long as it got America out of his house and there wasn't any more stupid black magic or rowdy attempts to sing, and Matthew, once he'd coaxed Arthur into being quiet for a few minutes, agreed, if only to get the whole farcical situation over with.

Once he was sure he had seen the back of his uninvited and frankly unwanted 'guests', Ivan gave a small sigh of relief and went back to his bedroom, where a grumpy Belarusian was sat in the middle of the bed, muttering darkly about what he 'should have let her do to them'. He sighed again and sat down beside her, putting around her shoulders and kissing her goodnight...Well, good morning now, before he settled back to sleep.

Natalya seemed somewhat soothed by the kiss and she lay down again too, snuggling close to Ivan. At last, they slept, undisturbed and unusually deeply, not rising until quite late in the morning. Perhaps now, the New Year would finally be as peaceful and sweet as they had hoped on their lovely walk the evening before. Or perhaps, for Representations of Nations, that was just too much to ask.

It certainly _seemed_ as though it may be too much to ask later that week when England decided that an appropriate way to apologise for the farcical incident was to summon Russia via magic, possibly traumatising America in the process.


	23. Dates and Babysitters

Things did, at least for a few weeks, quieten down. That was, until Natalya decided that she and her 'Darling Brother Vanya' had not been on a date in the New Year yet and that this was completely and utterly _unacceptable_.

"But Sestra, we had our New Year's Eve walk, da? That was a very nice romantic moment!" Ivan protested, not wanting to be dragged into some lavish and over-zealous plans devised by his Little Sister to 'show him her love'.

But her steely cobalt eyes narrowed in annoyance at him and she crossed her arms over her chest. "That was New Year's Eve, Big Brother. Not the New Year. It does not count, however nice it was." She approached the Russian man slightly menacingly, reaching out and grabbing at his scarf, pulling him close. Her ruby lips inches from his own lips, she hissed, "Now, are we going out tonight... _Or is my Darling Brat_ _avoiding me?!"_

Since he had agreed to marry her, Russia had become mildly less intimidated by his 'Lovely Little Sister', Belarus. But no amount of love for her could keep away his intimidation when she had _that look_ on her face. "Uh...Da, well, I guess we are going out tomorrow night..." He answered her, quite taken aback by her grip on his clothing and the Yandere glint in her eyes.

This seemed to pacify the Belarusian woman, who smiled and planted a quick peck of a kiss on his lips before releasing him, as suddenly calm as she had been suddenly angry. "Wonderful, Dearest. I shall make the necessary plans!" She beamed at him as she spun on her heal and strode towards the door that led out of the living and off upstairs, presumably to 'plan'.

"Oh, but-" Ivan began as something sprang to mind.

 _"No buts."_ Was the cold reply from Natalya as she left the room, leaving a baffled Ivan to ponder what he was going to do with Natalya in this mood and their usual babysitter, or Big Sister Ukraine as she was more commonly known, unavailable due to political complications at the moment. The date was _clearly_ unavoidable, but _someone_ was going to have to look after the children, _surely?_

He dropped down onto the couch with a heavy sigh. Much as he loved the Belarusian woman, she was difficult to deal with sometimes, as her practicality ended where her rather extreme adoration of him began. It seemed _he_ would have to do some planning too, but he had very little idea where to start with this particular task.

The Russian man's pessimistic, confused thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the entrance of his eldest child, Nastasya, who was rather casually waving around a rifle that had been one of her recent birthday presents.

"Papa, can-" The Muscovite began to speak then cut herself off as she took in her father's sullen expression. "What's wrong?" She demanded to know, placing the gun to one side and sitting down beside him with a look of concern on her face.

"Nothing, Dear. I'm just having a think, da?" Ivan insisted, not wishing to burden his 'Beloved Daughter' with such an issue.

"About?" Nastasya pressed, not about to drop a subject that his unwillingness to discuss implied could be interesting.

Sighing, Russia looked over at his teenage daughter. In some instances, she could be as stubborn as her mother, and it was clear there would be no peace until she got an answer. "Your Mama wants to go out tonight. Big Sister can't come and take care of you and the others." He explained, keeping it simple, because no one, no matter _how_ stubborn they themselves were, needed to be exposed the finer details of Natalya's stubbornness.

Nastasya just frowned in response though. "We don't _need_ looking after, though. I'm old enough to take care of the baby. _And_ deal with Inna." She told him, trying to reassure him as she added that she could handle the antics of her younger sister.

Ivan pondered this. His daughter would always be a sweet, innocent little baby to him and he didn't _want_ to leave her alone. The over-protective father could easily imagine _hundreds_ of horrible hypothetical situations that could come from leaving his 'babies' without adult supervision for a mere _second._ On the other hand, a part of him was forced to admit that Nastasya was, very nearly, an adult. She'd been trusted with Minsk before when Ukraine needed them out of the house, and that hadn't gone horribly wrong.

Besides, other options weren't presenting themselves quickly, and he didn't fancy his chances of trying again to talk Natalya out of their 'date'. So eventually, the Russian reluctantly nodded his head in agreement. "Da, I suppose that's true...Just...Take care, okay, Petal? Be careful, if anything happens, call us, da?"

He may have accepted Nastasya's idea out of necessity, but he was still going worry endlessly, and his daughter knew nothing would change that, so she just nodded and kissed his cheek before she got up again, grabbing hold of her rifle. "I have this, remember? We'll be fine." She assured him as she held up the weapon. "Which reminds me...Can I practice in here?"

 _"Nyet!"_ Ivan suddenly jumped up, less fed up but a lot more concerned. "That's for outside, da? It's only been a couple of years since we got the windows fixed..."

Moscow pouted, but she accepted that he had a fair point. Besides, there was enough on her father's mind, she could tell. So she trudged off outside to 'practice' her aim. Which, in reality, consisted of her shooting at anything that wasn't a member of her family but happened to move. Or in some cases, just happened to exist.

Meanwhile, in her room, Natalya got ready to the sound of gunshots from outside. Used to her unusual family, she ignored the familiar sound of her daughter spraying things with bullets and continued with the task at hand, touching up her make-up and changing into a long black evening gown. She stood in front of her dressing table mirror for a long time, constantly checking her reflection to make sure she looked 'right' for a date with her 'Beloved Brother'.

She was still standing there as a certain Russian Nation snuck into the room behind her. He'd considerably warmed up to the idea of a date now that Moscow had 'solved' his problem. Knowing she had a weapon was somehow both soothing and terrifying at the same time, but he was allowing it to soothe him as he grinned to himself at the idea of surprising his sister.

Walking up behind her, he slipped his arms around her waist and pulled her back. To his surprise and disappointment, Natalya seemed to have been expecting his 'prank', merely stretching her arms up and wrapping them around his neck, cuddling close to him. "Hello, Brother Dearest." She smiled, "My mirror tells me you look as amazing as always, but do I look acceptable for our evening together?"

Now that he was slightly reassured by the fact the Belarusian was merely looking in the mirror and not using some kind of supernatural abilities (He was never _sure_ with her), Russia decided that his sister was either angling after a compliment or insecure, so obviously this meant he had to rise to the occasion and shower her with affection.

Unsurprisingly, Natalya voiced no objections, revelling in his attention and trying very hard to grin smugly. "Well, then, if you are ready, we should go." She cut him off after a while. She didn't _want_ to interrupt, but she _did_ want that date. _Now._ However, she did smirk as she pulled away from her husband's embrace and take his hand, 'graciously' adding, "You may continue to tell me how much you love me on the way."

"The way to where, Moya Solnishko?" Ivan enquired innocently as he gently squeezed her hand in his and walked with her down the stairs and out of their house, still oblivious to whatever plans Natalya had made.

His Little Sister grinned back at him. "That is a surprise, Dear. I will show you soon enough." And typically, the stubborn Belarusian would not yield, even as the Russian pouted, whined and tried to get around her with the formerly desired affection.

In fact, Ivan did not discover the Belarusian woman's date plans until they arrived at the grand Bolshoi Theatre. She turned to him with a smile. "There is a ballet show on tonight that I thought you might like to see. So I got us V.I.P tickets." She announced smugly, holding up the two tickets and leaning in to kiss his cheek. "Because I love you so much."

Russia smiled and gave his wife a hug, kissing her cheek in return. "I love you too, Nata, that was very sweet of you!" He answered, putting aside his curiosity as to how Natalya had managed that so quickly and discreetly to allow himself to peacefully enjoy their date night without any questions about what Belarus did to get her own way.

Instead, he followed her lead as she eagerly tugged on his arm, hurrying him inside. Once their tickets were checked, she pulled him to their seats and settled down beside him, her hand still in his and her other arm wrapped tightly around his as she half-cuddled, half-gripped him excitedly. Ivan shook his head slightly at her zealous affection, but so far, this _did_ look like being a lovely date, so he stroked his fingers over the back of the hand that was entwined with his and smiled at her, returning the loving gestures without any protest at the vice-like hold on his arm.

Meanwhile, things at home weren't going quite so well. Moscow had carefully rocked her youngest sibling to sleep, mimicking the way her mother handled the infant so she could be sure that he would sleep. She wanted peace and quiet to practice her Chess skills. However, she was having trouble persuading Minsk to play. Inna's grasp of 'rules' in any game, or indeed in life, was shaky, and while she _had_ listened to Nastasya's explanation this time, she had quickly dismissed it as 'boring', and was, therefore, waiting for her elder sibling to come up with another way to entertain her.

So Nastasya, inexperienced in how the mind of a small child in the absence of despised authority figures worked, had made the mistake of asking what _Inna_ wanted to do, mostly out of frustration after all her suggestions had received groans of disinterest.

When she asked, though, her Little Sister's lilac eyes lit up in a worryingly delighted manner. "Let's have a play-war!" She sang out cheerily. "You've got your gun, right? And _I_ know where Mama keeps a _lot_ of sharp things!"

"Sestra, nyet. Weapons are not for playing with." Nastasya tried to argue wearily. The Belarusian child's lack of enthusiasm for anything safe yet delight at this dangerous idea was getting to her now.

"Well, let's call it _practice_ then." Came the slightly disturbing reply.

"I'm not allowed to use the gun inside and we can't go and leave Ilya in here alone!" The flustered Muscovite hit back, doubt at the abilities she had bragged about to her father earlier filling her mind now.

"There's enough knives and swords lying around for both of us to be armed without leaving the gun." Inna reasoned calmly.

"You shouldn't touch those, they're Mama's. Besides, we might wake the baby!" Nastasya was throwing all her arguments into one now, desperate for her parents to return _now._ Or at least, for their return _not_ to be to a war zone or worse. Why couldn't she still have a normal, sweet Little Sister who looked up to her and would be as she said?!

Oblivious to the mounting panic and chaos taking place in her living room at the moment, Natalya Braginskaya was happily resting her head on her Big Brother's shoulder, snuggled against his arm. Her indigo blue eyes were focused on the swirling dancers performing the beautiful ballet show that had just begun to unfold in front of them, but her mind was focused on the fact she was here, with her Beloved Russia. She idly daydreaming of them and occasionally twitching her hand in his, in it looked as though Ivan's absentminded affectionate caressing was going to stop.

The Personification of Russia was still paying attention to his devoted younger sibling, partly because she made it very tricky not to, but he, too, was watching the ballet show. His earlier guilt at leaving his children alone and being pressganged into this 'date' was forgotten as he found himself enjoying Belarus's plans immensely.

He may have been less relaxed if he knew how Moscow was coping. Or rather, not coping, as the case currently was. The argument had escalated considerably, and Moscow was leaning heavily on her mother and father's bedroom door, blocking out an angry Minsk. The elder sibling had made a run for the stairs as soon as Inna had given up on persuading her and decided to go ahead and fetch the best part of her mother's knife collection. Nastasya wasn't sure if she was the faster runner or had just been lucky, but she w _as_ sure she had narrowly averted a potential crisis. For now, at any rate.

 _"C'mon, Big Sister!"_ A small Belarusian whined as she strode towards the Russian Lady with an aggressive frown. _"You used to be fun! Why_ can't we play wars?!"

'Used to be fun', Nastasya inwardly sighed to herself. Yes, and her Little Sister used to love her and not want to get her hands on a lot of dangerous weapons. She began to despair of the situation, but then a long-forgotten memory occurred to her. "Because...I know something more fun we can do, Sestra!" She hurriedly announced.

She held her breath as she watched her sibling considered this for a few minutes, then inaudibly sighed in relief as Inna nodded. "Okay, Sister, but it better be more interesting than your other plans!" She answered impatiently.

Nastasya nodded absentmindedly at the child as she took her by the hand and hurried her towards her own bedroom. The older Slavic girl cast her eyes around her familiar sleeping space, then let go of Inna's hand and reached up to a shelf, lifting something down.

When she was very little, her father had bought her a beautifully ornate Babushka Doll. It was huge and coated in sparkly paint with intricate patterns. More importantly, it had fascinated her as a child, and more so an infant Minsk when her Big Sister had shown it off to her.

It was a dimly remembered idea, clung to desperately in an attempt to amuse her sibling, and it did, for a while, work. Then Minsk began to whine that warfare would be more fun. In the end, the Eastern Slav Sisters compromised when Moscow allowed her siblings to make the numerous little dolls fight the biggest, with Inna using her...interesting imagination to invent a whole war.

When, after the long show, a ton of cuddles and yet another 'romantic' evening walk together, Belarus and Russia arrived home, they thankfully didn't find the chaos Moscow had expected, but a sleeping St. Petersburg in his cradle, an equally sleepy Minsk curled up on her Big Sister's bedroom floor and Moscow quietly watching over them.

Ivan had enjoyed himself, successfully pacified Natalya, and not returned a war, unless Babushkas counted. Natalya was smugly happy with her date. Nastasya had looked after her siblings, prevented too much trouble, and later subtly hinted to her mother that she should move her weapons to a new hiding place. Inna and Ilya dozed innocently.

 _Everything was okay._


	24. An Eventful Meeting

Everything did _stay_ peaceful. Well, up until, quite typically, it seemed, a flurry of letters began between Ivan, Ivan's Boss, the rest of Ivan's Allies and their Bosses and eventually resulted in a sort of vague agreement that the Allies should have a meeting. That, in itself, wasn't a problem. The problem arose with location.

China refused to have the rest of the Allies over at his house after America and Russia had had a fight the time before and destroyed an innocent bystander in the form of a stuffed Panda.

England and France steadfastly insisted that they would not attend events at one another's house, after yet another long-winded dispute by post.

America didn't bother sending any letters at all but responded to the chain of requests for him to host the meeting with an email simply reading, 'HAHAHA...Nah.'

This meant the task of hosting fell to the Russian man. Natalya's silent, haughty disdain for the whole affair, based loosely on the fact that she considered her Brother's Allies a little better than people who _weren't_ allied with him, but still a bunch of morons who weren't worth her time, didn't make planning easy. Neither did having a baby who was beginning to teeth and an overly curious six-year-old to contend with.

Moscow did her best to help, but she had very little understanding of the correct procedure. Her protective father had never allowed his children, even his own Capital City who was 'almost grown-up', do attend the hectic World meetings. "Why not, Papa?" Nastasya asked one day, as she trailed after him with an armful of his paperwork, having saved it from Minsk's curiosity, which unfortunately appeared to be crayon related.

"Because these silly excuses for Nations are not worth your time, Sweetheart. Now let me take this, da?" Ivan replied, taking the papers from her and shooing her away before she got 'curious' too.

But the Russian had to concede that, since the meeting would take place in their home, his children were going to end up meeting the other Nations, or at least his fellow Allies. And Nastasya wasn't so much of a _child_ anymore. She wasn't going to cover things in crayons like Inna did, or scream all the time like Ilya. And she was has Capital, perhaps she deserved some responsibility.

Besides, he needed all the help he could get to stop a fight breaking out. Normally, the fights at the World Meetings were amusing to watch, but if one broke out in the living room, Belarus might get involved and that could very easily start a war. He sighed, placed the documents, thankfully free of brightly coloured crayon, on his desk and followed his eldest daughter. "Ah, Sweetheart...You could help if you wanted, da?" He called after her.

Having been shooed away, the young Muscovite had wandered out of her father's office and made her way along the corridor, pondering to herself what went on at her father's meetings. She _was_ a little curious, albeit not quite in the same way as her Belarusian sibling was 'interested', especially following the strange encounters they had had with Ivan's 'co-workers' in the past.

So when she heard him call out to her, she spun around quickly and gave a nod, accompanied by a small smile of gratitude. Though never one to waste words saying so, Nastasya loved her father and was glad to help him, doubly so since it meant she could indulge her intrigue and observe some of the other Nations.

For the next few days, the two Russian Personifications spent most of their time in a whirlwind of planning. When the day of the meeting finally arrived, Ivan was all set but beginning to have second thoughts. His International colleagues were, at best, an entertaining group. At worse, they were a dubious bunch of imbecilic weaklings, to his mind. Did he _really_ want his Precious Little daughter around _them?_

But he shook off his doubts. However protective he was, he had no real doubt that Nastasya could handle herself. Besides, he didn't consider any of his colleagues to be _threats._ Just _fools._ And anyway, Moscow had already answered the door.

When Russia hurried into the hallway, he found her more or less ignoring America's loud greetings as she half-ushered, half-pushed him inside, before turning back around to where France and England were squabbling and giving them a withering look. Francis haughtily refused to take any notice because of her 'less than satisfying' reaction to his cooking, resulting in Arthur rolling his eyes and muttering something about Francis being an annoying frog, as usual.

"Non, the girl just has no taste buds, clearly!" The Frenchman protested, before widening his eyes dramatically and gasping. "Mon Dieu, you haven't damaged them with your terrible food, have you?"

 _"Nyet!"_ Ivan interjected loudly before England could break one of Natalya's favourite ornaments against France's skull. "There is nothing wrong with my Sweet Little Petal. Now come in, sit down and shut up, da?" He smiled innocently at the gawping Nations.

A certain Chinese man put his head around the Englishman's shoulder and muttered something about how rude everyone was, then caught a glimpse of Russia's grin then thought better of repeating it in a louder voice.

It was too late to avoid chaos though as the Russian man had spotted him and, with the other Allies silenced, decided he might as well entertain himself. "Ah, Yao! You want to become one with Mother Russia now, da? That is what this meeting is about, da?" He asked with a growing smile.

China inched away.

"Da, why don't you join Papa?" Nastasya interrupted innocently.

The other watching Nations began to inch away as well. "Oh, Jeez, now there's _two_ Ruskies!" Alfred moaned to Arthur, who glared at him, mostly because Ivan was muttering darkly in their general direction.

In fact, Russia was also very aware of the fact that he had his daughter there to back him up. He thoroughly enjoyed exploiting the fact for the rest of the day. Once he had calmed down and his Allies had been coaxed out of the corner of the Hall by Nastasya's promise to go and get drinks, he made the most of Moscow's presence, smug because the rest of the Allied Forces found him intimidating at the best of times, but now he had back-up, they were surprisingly reasonable and a little subdued. Although the fact that Nastasya had decided to bring her rifle along may have helped with that effect.

Overall, he considered the day a success. Perhaps he would have to have meetings at his house more often. Or since, his Little Sister and the rest of his Allies were for once in agreement about that being a bad idea, maybe he would have to start taking Moscow to meetings with him.


	25. All Belarus Ever Wanted

The morning after the meeting, Russia woke up and wished he hadn't. He tried to sit and felt his headache getting worse. Swallowing, he found his throat to be dry and painful. The Russian man groaned and flopped back down against the pillows.

His noisy complaints alerted Belarus, who was currently busy brushing her hair in front of the mirror of her dressing table, but as soon as she became aware of Ivan's distress, she dropped her hairbrush with a clatter and stood up hastily, scurrying to her Beloved Big Brother's side. "Vanya?" She enquired tentatively as Ivan whined and pulled the blankets tighter around him, hugging the pillows close.

"Is something bothering you? What is wrong?!" The persistent Belarusian demanded to know, gently tugging back the covers. As she did so, her slender fingers grazed his normally pale cheeks and she frowned in obvious concern. Ivan's face was flushed and hot, burning up against her hand. Natalya arched one pale blonde eyebrow in thought, then put two and two together. "Brother has a cold." She concluded.

The Russian glared at the World in general through one half-open violet eye. He gave a croaking cough, cleared his throat and swore loudly in his mother tongue.

"Poor Darling Brother..." Belarus clucked sympathetically, stroking his face again. "I will look after you now, Moy Brat, worry not." She leant in and kissed his forehead softly. "Do you want anything, Dearest?"

"I want to feel better," Ivan muttered uncharacteristically grumpily. But he did smile slightly at his Little Sister. She was trying her best to help him after all. "But if I cannot feel better right now, I can have my Nata, da? That might help."

Natalya's face lit up and she nodded, kissing him again. "I will stay, Big Brother, my Precious. Of course I will stay for you." The Belarusian sat down on the bed beside him, running her fingers through his hair and gazing at his face as his eyelids flickered he began to fall back to sleep. She didn't care if she got ill too, she didn't care about the other things that might need attending to today. She only cared about her Beloved Brother and husband.

It wasn't unusual for the more than a little obsessive personification of Belarus to focus only on the Russian object of her affections, but Natalya grew ridiculously protective of Ivan whenever he was unwell or inconvenienced. She took it as a personal insult or attack and would immediately attempt to fix the problem for him. In this case, she could not. And Ivan wasn't truly _ill_ , as such. It was just a common cold, so the Belarusian couldn't fight it on his behalf. Though she was sorely tempted to fight his Allies, blaming them for bringing germs and illness to her 'perfect Darling Big Brother'.

Her heart burned with sympathy and she lay back by his side, watching over him as he slept. Wrapped in the blankets and curled up, Ivan looked just like a child as he slumbered. The Female Nation stroked his hair softly again, sighing happily. Of course, she admonished herself mentally, she could never, _ever_ be truly happy while _her_ Russia was unwell, but she was very content that this sweet, adorable little angel was hers and hers alone at last, and that he finally admitted that he _wanted - needed -_ her by his side.

Natalya's fingers curled gently around soft strands of Ivan's ashen blond hair as she lay in bed at his side, slowly zoning out as she entered an odd, reflective frame of mind. Her thoughts travelled back through time to the years she had spent fighting to convince her Treasured One that they were soul mates, destined to be together forever as husband and wife.

Her mind strayed to her screaming, shouting, coercing and threatening. She winced as she recalled breaking things, running after the Russian with weapons in her hands and desperation in her mind, scratching at his door and pleading with him to let her into his home and his heart. She remembered sleeping in the cold on his doorstep on nights when he refused, feeling Winter whispering in her ears, threatening to freeze her to death.

Belarus pulled the bedclothes around her with a little shiver and moved on to warmer thoughts. She rolled onto her side, close against Ivan as she watched him snoozing and thought back to a day when, like many other occasions, she'd forced her way into his home and hurried to his side. They'd argued. She'd actually _cried,_ a silly, weak thing she hardly ever allowed herself to do.

And then...She'd finally let out all her deepest, darkest, most hidden feelings. The whole intense truth of what she _really_ felt for him, not with sharp knives and chilling chants but with simple words and brute honesty. And her Precious Russia had revealed what she had always _hoped_ but never actually suspected. That he loved her back, not just as his Little Sister, but as his fiancée and soon after as his wife.

Natalya felt giddy just remembering their first true emotional experience as husband and wife...Their wedding dance, which had been, as far as she was concerned (and according to what Ivan had confessed later, although he may just have been trying to appease his wife to avoid her zealous interrogation), an expression of their love for one another. She summoned up the memories...

* * *

 _Hold on to him, never let him go, savour this moment together. As she gripped her partner's arms and gazed into his eyes, that was all Natalya Rusovna Braginskaya was thinking of, and probably all she was capable of thinking of right now. She even barely felt him spin her around, barely heard the music playing, the footsteps of the other dancers, nor the laughter and chatter of those who had chosen not to dance._

 _Nothing cut through her own little bubble of rare but golden bliss to attack her. Except it wasn't golden, but Amethyst, like his eyes. Deep purple and precious, cherished close to her heart._

 _A small smile crept over her face, as rare as this experience, and to her dancing partner, husband, brother, and in her eyes, everything, just as 'golden', precious, perfect._

 _As he whirled his brand new wife and devoted little sister across the dance floor, Ivan Braginsky was also having a little difficulty paying attention to anything other than the woman in his arms. More specifically, the Union State they had agreed to enter into about an hour ago._

 _It was an unexpected agreement to the rest of the World, as Ivan had always seemed somewhat reluctant to marry his sister, Belarus, to say the least. To Natalya, it was a blissfully sweet surrender, making true her lifelong dreams._

 _And to him? To him it was giving in, something Russia didn't normally do, losing face, raising questions and eyebrows. And yet...it made him happy. Because truthfully, secretly, he had wanted to say 'yes' to Belarus many, many times. But he had never done it._

 _Not because everyone would point and say 'incest'. Yes, he'd thought of that, but he knew he could handle it. No, the Russian man's motives lay in his own thoughts about his sister._

 _He simply didn't believe that she really, truly, actually wanted to be married to him. Maybe she was confused or just didn't realise what he thought. That he wouldn't be a good husband. He had hesitated several times when she had come calling, had considered telling her that he loved her, but had faltered, unable to bear the idea of ever disappointing his Dear Little Sister._

 _Until she'd gone and set up some kind of 'Union State' agreement. He had been confused and a little hurt that she didn't consult him, yet somehow pleased that he couldn't blow his chances to agree with his own silly insecurities._

 _Since then, they had done an awful lot of talking, with a very simple conclusion._

 _They were in love._

 _The music playing in the background faded out, snapping him back from his thoughts, only to find himself holding his bride in the pose that mirrored their final dance move. Natalya was leaning back in his arms, a glazed over look in her eyes and an unnerving fixed smile on her face._

 _Brilliant, creepy 'I am planning our future together' Belarus was back. Whatever happened to sweet 'you love me, I'm so happy' Belarus?_

 _It was at that moment that someone shouted out. "Aren't you going to kiss her?" In a very sarcastic and slightly rude tone, before following it up with very obviously false kissy noises._

 _Ivan turned to glare but wasn't sure which guest made the remark. That is the trouble when the whole World as at your wedding reception._

 _Anyway, he was tugged back around to face his wife by the aforementioned Female Nation, who looked up at him expectantly. "He is, not that that's any of your business." She said in answer to the shouted comment._

 _Feeling himself blush as he looked down into her eyes, Russia paused. What should he do? People were being very rude, and it was beginning to bug him. That comment had been almost as annoying as when America had referred to his darling bride as 'Beauty the Beast' earlier._

 _On the other hand, said 'darling wife' wanted a kiss. Not only was kissing Natalya enjoyable, but he knew from experience that she could be very scary when she wasn't getting what she wanted._

 _So he leant in and kissed her softly._

 _Natalya smiled against his lips. She knew how to get what she wanted from her beloved Brother. Then the Belarusian swung upwards, flipping her older sibling around with remarkable ease and kissing him roughly, sliding her tongue into his mouth as she switched their kiss to a passionate make-out session._

 _When eventually the couple rose for air, Natalya flipped off the goggle-eyed, stunned-looking audience of Nations that were their wedding guests, before heading to fetch her blushing, bashfully grinning husband a drink, since he seemed incapable of moving for the time being._

* * *

Yes, Natalya recalled to herself as she lay at Ivan's side, that perfect, special day had been an overwhelming expression of their pure dedication to one another and had signalled the beginning of their lives together. Even with dumb wedding guests...She scowled to herself for a brief second, they were probably the same imbeciles who were responsible for making her Darling ill.

Nonetheless, here she was, united with Vanya since that sacred day. He had even given her her beautiful little babies, she noted as her eyes flickered up from the love of her life's gorgeous face to check on the cradle in the corner. She gave another sigh. Now was truly a perfect time of her life.

Eventually, the spell was broken. The Russian man swiftly recovered from his cold, which Moscow counted as a relief as it meant she no longer had to 'babysit' Minsk and take care of all his work for him.

But even as life returned to normal, the usually cynical, hardnosed Belarusian Republic remained utterly content with her day-to-day life. During those few days of watching over her Love and her baby son, while seeing that not only had Brother Darling given her her 'babies', but one of them was growing into a capable young woman and had successfully cared for Minsk for her, Natalya had come to one simple, albeit a little smug, conclusion.

 _She had everything she'd ever wanted._


	26. Happily Ever After (Epilogue)

Months ticked by, barely noticed by the Republic of Belarus, who for many months after her Beloved Russia's 'illness' alternated between being especially clingy with him, worrying that he may get 'ill' again, and being blissfully happy because she was well and truly certain now that she had secured her Big Brother's love and all her other dreams that came hand in hand with it.

She was beginning to scare Ivan again. He wasn't used to his Little Sister, as cold and harsh as she usually was, smiling so much. Even in her happiest moments, her face was set in a deadpan expression or her smile was a barely there, private gesture for him. This cheerful but immensely overprotective Natalya was a little odd, although he didn't truly _mind._ She _did_ look sweet when she smiled, it was just taking a lot of getting used to.

Fortunately for the Russian Personification, he had a hint of hope for a small break from trying to adjust to the joyful version of Natalya when their son's first birthday was nearly upon them and the Belarusian lady went into crazy planning mode. _Un_ fortunately, that was worse.

All through the month of May, Natalya was in a constantly busy frenzy. She was a very determined woman when she set her heart on something, and right now she was determined that her son's first birthday should be a special one. And after all, she told herself, what better way to express to her loved ones how very, _very_ happy they were making her than a _massive_ party?

So, as the big day rolled closer and closer, her relatives spent most of their time being utterly baffled by her over-catering for one little birthday party. Ivan couldn't figure out why one of the kitchen cupboards had a box of fireworks stuffed in it, Nastasya was very confused when she opened her wardrobe and was nearly bowled over by the net full of helium-filled balloons that bounced out and had to be chased down, and Inna consumed an entire five-tier cake before realising it hadn't been meant for her, then also realising that she'd eaten too much and felt horribly sick.

Belarus did not allow these setbacks to dampen her spirits or slow her down. She barely even scolded Minsk at all for the loss of the cake, beginning to create another, even bigger birthday cake for Ilya. She quietly moved the supply of balloons and fireworks to a safer space and admitted to her Dearest Big Brother that she was celebrating more than the anniversary of Saint Petersburg's birth.

"We must celebrate our love and happiness, Darling Brother Vanya!" She told him firmly, in the overzealous tone that made Ivan too nervous to effectively argue with her.

"That's...Adorable, Nata..." He mumbled in response, kissing her forehead quickly and scurrying away to leave her to her plans. Maybe she'd be calmer later, he thought optimistically, picking up some of the envelopes she had left on the side. They had familiar addresses scrawled across them in Natalya's handwriting and he guessed they were the party invitations she'd been working on, so, partly as an excuse to get out of the house before she got overly enthused again, he went off to post them.

The Russian man slipped out of the house and strolled idly along the street. As his violet eyes fell on the envelope on the top of the pile, he recognised the address as his Dear Big Sister, Ukraine's. He sighed sadly as he thought of Iryna. If it wasn't for her current situation, everything would be perfect.

Much as Natalya's enthusiastic love and overwhelming attachment to him could be unnerving on occasions, or in this case for most of the year, he did love her, as a sibling and as a spouse. They had shared nineteen whole years of emotional but mostly enjoyable marriage and many, many more years of each other's company. They had always just about managed to get along reasonably, although they had had their moments, as Iryna would doubtlessly be able to testify.

They had three beautiful children for whom he'd happily kill, die, or do anything else they needed him to do. And those children were growing into capable Personifications, opinionated young people and most importantly, a pretty much happy family. He was very proud of all of them in their own ways.

Through all of that, Iryna had always been there. She had come to his wedding to Natalya. She had been at their sister's side when his little ones were born. Even before the beginning of his relationship with Natalya, back when her affection scared him half to death, his elder sister had been there to soothe his tears away, to try and distract the Belarusian and to attempt to drag them apart when he begged her to get the clinging younger girl off him. They had both been more or less raised by her, away deaths of parental figures Ivan could scarcely recall and a series of battles he wished he couldn't recall at all, and she had strived to be a good mother figure, meaning that she had actually been an amazing one and never realised it.

Russia let out another little sigh as he approached the nearest post box with the handful of mail. His Dear Big Sestra meant the World to him and Natalya, he knew, even if they had probably filled her life with no end of burdens. But now a whole lot of political messes meant that she hadn't visited since her brief stay last year, which had been mostly out of family duty and then necessity after Natalya dragged her along to Paris and wouldn't let her leave early. He wished they could see her more often and all be together like they _used_ to be...

He shoved most of the invitations roughly into the mailbox. All except Big Sister's. Perhaps what Natalya had said a while back about their Sister hadn't been a bad point. Maybe he should visit Iryna personally about this...

Ivan practically _ran_ home and hurried inside. He was planning on driving to Kiev and visiting Iryna now, but it was a long journey and he realised from last time he'd gone somewhere without letting Natalya know first that it would probably be unwise not to tell his strange Little Sister what was going through his mind.

"Natasha! _Natasha!"_ He called as he dashed through the hall and into the house. Moscow looked up from where she was trying to wrestle her gun out of Minsk's hands and gestured upwards, letting him know that Natalya was upstairs. No sooner had she done so than he heard the Belarusian's footsteps thumping quickly down the steps as she ran to meet him. She still had the baby in her arms and some silvers party streamers in her platinum hair, but she set Ilya down in a little cradle nearby and turned to embrace him eagerly.

"Did you want something, Dearest? Other than to see me, of course." She questioned as she threw her arms tightly around him.

He chuckled softly and pecked a little kiss onto her lips in greeting and to pacify her thirst for affection, before nodding enthusiastically. "Da! I need to visit Big Sister, that's okay, da?" He ran it by her.

Natalya's indigo orbs lit up at the idea of seeing both her Beloved elder siblings at once. "Irunya?! Then I shall accompany you, Darling Vanya!" She insisted, clinging tightly to him.

The Russian Male had learnt when it was pointless to tell his Little Sister what to do or what not to do. "Da, if you wish, Bela, Dear. So long as Nastasya doesn't mind looking after the little ones..." He trailed off, glancing at the Female Muscovite. She gave a little sigh as she looked at her troublesome younger sister, then her baby brother. Eventually, she nodded in agreement.

That was all the confirmation Belarus required and she disentangled herself from her Big Brother's embrace, instead taking a firm grip on his hand and tugging him eagerly out of the house and towards the car. Ivan barely had time to grab his car keys, stuff Iryna's party invitation into his coat pocket and wave his children goodbye before they were out of the door.

The car journey that followed was long and uneventful, with the siblings merely chatting back fourth as they made their way to the residence of the eldest Eastern Slavic sibling. When, at last, they pulled up outside the Ukrainian's home, Ivan stopped the car and Natalya leapt out, hurrying up to the door and banging on it as Ivan locked the vehicle's doors and followed her, by which time, Iryna had already come running to the door to investigate.

The elder woman's cherubic face broke into a beaming smile and her teal eyes glowed with heartwarming happiness as she instantly recognised her siblings. _God,_ she'd missed them! "Vanya, Natasha! What a lovely surprise! Come in, please!" She gushed in greeting, hugging her Little Sister close and kissing her cheek before embracing her Brother similarly.

Both of the younger siblings hurried on into their mother figure's cosy home and settled down on her couch. For a while, there was small talk and general chit-chat, then Ivan interrupted the light conversation. "Anyway, Big Sister, we came to ask you something very important." He began, uncharacteristically serious in tone.

Iryna set aside the knitting she was working on and met her Little Brother's gaze expectantly as she saw her youngest sibling nodding in enthusiastic agreement.

"Well, it is two things, actually," Ivan corrected himself, pulling the envelope from his pocket. "Firstly, there is this for you," He handed it over, "And secondly...You want to be one with Russia, da?" He smiled at her invitingly.

Ukraine gave the exasperated sigh of a mother who has seen this childish antic one too many times. "Vanya, we've _talked_ about this..." She began.

"Big Brother just means you should come for the party," Natalya interjected, gesturing to the envelope when Iryna looked confused for a second, "And stay a while. We have been missing you for a long time, Big Siastra." Ivan conceded that Natalya's explanation was probably better, or at least more likely to convince her than his, and nodded in agreement.

Iryna sighed as she looked from one hopeful smile to the next. She missed them a lot herself. The days when their family had been together would forever remain as wonderful memories, in spite of other things going on at those times. After a few minutes of internal debate, her heart made the decision and her head gave the small affirmative nod.

It wasn't until after all the tears of joy, the zealous celebrations of birthdays, love and reunions and the full moving in ('just for a little while') process were completely sorted out that Ivan realised he had everything he wanted too. And it was Natalya who made him see it that way. Well, not directly, but as he lay in bed beside her one night, she scribbled in her diary. One line caught his eye and clicked in his mind.

 _...Happily after ever!_


End file.
